i�m at a motel in LA.  there�s a 7-11 in front of it.  i go in for cigarettes and to my right, picking through a box of orange slice sugar candies, is John Turturro telling a clerk how much he likes the candies.  he says:
�I like the orange ones but I like the yellow and red ones, too.  Can I just pick and mix them?  Is that ok?� (looks up at me and smiles) �I have a sweet tooth.�
i smile, too.  he says:
�have you ever had one of these? (holds up the orange sugar slice) (I shake my head even though I have) �They�re my favorites.  Hey, guy (to the clerk), put this one on my tab.� (hands me one).
i take a bite.  he pops the rest in his mouth and grins from ear to ear.  he says:
�What�s your name?�
i tell him.
�That�s a pretty name.  It�s nice to meet you.  I�m John.�
i tell him i know who he is.
�Oh yeah?  You recognize me?�
i tell him i loved Quiz Show.

we�re lying in his motel bed, facing one another on our sides.  we�re eating a white box of orange sugar slices and talking in choppy sentences that make complete sense to us both.  there�s no light except the blue, neon glow from the motel�s sign outside.  i smile and wipe a bit of sugar from his mouth.  he grabs my hand as i pull it away and kisses it, his eyes never leaving mine, orange sugar exploding all around
us.
#42: John Turturro
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