B Cup’s more plywood shack than cafe, barely bigger than a walk-in closet.
A tattooed girl lazes behind the counter with a mouthful of apricot scone.
Boone enters with The Young Mutt on a leash.
She wipes the crumbs from her mouth. Her eyes are bloodshot and unguarded.
You caught me munchin’, man.
Sorry to interrupt your snack.
No worries.
Can my dog be in here?
Absolutely.
We’re very pet-friendly.
What can I get you?
Black coffee.
Oh…
Our drip is done for the day,
but I can totally make you an Americano…
Is that cool?
Perfect.
Right on…
A tip jar labeled Good Karma sits next to the cash register—empty.
Busy today?
Pretty normal.
Is normal busy?
Depends on your definition of busy.
She jams the portafilter in with brute precision and hits the switch: the screeching puts an end to the line of questioning. The Young Mutt barks at the machine when it switches gears with a clank.
Outside, he hasn’t lit his smoke before the words hit:
Nice dog.
A shorter gentleman in a white T-shirt, jeans and a military haircut. His smile is easy, but he looks like he could punch his way out of a coffin.
You must be Boone.
I am.
Boone extends his hand for a shake. Jon lets it dangle.
No need to shake hands.
Associates shake hands.
We’re just two guys talking—
Right?
Talking and walking…
They head south on Avenue B. Jon glances down at The Young Mutt.
I recognize that dog.
I saw his photo in The Times review.
He’s the only thing critics liked about your play.
I did my research on you.
I thought Seamus was bullshitting me.
You’re the real deal.
A fuckin’ writer.
Not some aspiring would-be.
You’re a having-been.
Not a has-been.
You know what I’m saying?
Yeah…
I wanted to be a writer—
never wanted to put the work in.
I like the title…
But who wants to do the work?
Jon humbles himself—a flicker of embarrassment.
What am I saying?
You do, obviously…
I didn’t mean any offense.
I didn’t take it that way.
Good.
But I’ll tell you this—
It takes balls to do what you do.
I admire that…
I don’t admire many people.
Thanks.
They get to the northern edge of Tompkins Square Park, and Jon leads them casually west on East 10th Street.
You know how to keep your mouth shut?
Yes.
You know how to be discreet?
Know how to not look like a fuckin’ jagoff?
How to look like a guy with a normal job,
not like a guy makin’ deliveries?
I think so.
Then you’re gonna do fine.
You’re gonna make a lot of money,
and no one’s ever gonna fuck with you.
Listen—
Cops are stupid.
They signed up ‘cause they’re lazy.
Make their job easy.
Look the part—
like a regular fuckin’ citizen.
And let me tell you this—
never get on a bike.
Walk.
Take the subway.
Drive.
Anything but a bike.
Cops see that chain on your waist,
a messenger bag—
they will stop you.
And there’s nothing you can do about it.
If a cop wants to search your bag,
that’s what he’s gonna do.
Don’t bother with the Constitution.
These fuckers don’t care.
That’s for the lawyers later.
Keep your mouth shut.
Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.
You get picked up.
You’ll be just fine.
We got guys everywhere to look out for you.
You understand?
I do.
And don’t ever try to get slick with me.
You know?
I don’t actually.
C’mon…
You know.
Get one of your buddies to tune you up with a baseball bat—
tell me you got robbed.
I don’t think I have any friends that would do that for me.
What d’you need friends for?
You got a dog.
He winks at The Young Mutt.
All right.
So tomorrow—
We’ll get you set up.
Sound good?
Sounds great.
9 a.m.
Be at 105 North 7th Street.
You know where that is?
Sure—
It’s in Williamsburg.
Exactly.
You’ll see Memphis.
He’ll sort you out.
Memphis is his alias.
Everyone is a city.
You’re Pittsburgh.
Nobody will know your name but me.
Should I have Memphis’ number?
You don’t need his number.
Just be there.
He’ll be waiting on you.
He pats him on the back.
You’re all right, kiddo.
This is gonna work out well for you—
make some easy money to fund your art…
That’s the idea.
Ah, you’re gonna be just fine.
It’s too bad I missed your play.
I really would’ve liked to see it.
There’ll be others.
Jon’s eye glints—he smirks.
I have no doubt.