Introductions are tricky.

The very best introduction I’ve ever had to anything was my introduction to Dr Pepper. The first marriage between my lips and the sweetness of batch 23 Dr Pepper…that’s a moment. That’s a point in time where things just seemed to work. Dr Pepper is no longer available in my town as the only people who drank it were myself and two mates. but that’s why I’m not coming to America.

As the bio states, I’m flying over to LA in 5 months to sell scripts. I know no-one. There are no contacts to milk. And I don’t mind.

Being the smallest of fish in the biggest pond is how it should be. I should have to work for it. To think that million dollar deals will fall into my lap is ludicrous. that’s won’t stop from me from entertaining a few LA fantasies. One can’t help it being raised the way we are.

I want famous people to be walking around everywhere. If I don’t get that, the consider my dream stripped of a few sparkles. I don’t think it’s unrealistic to expect to see Brain Grazer having coffee around the corner from my hotel. Nor is it unreasonable for him to politely accommodate a long line of hopeful scribes lined up round the block pitching their dream in under thirty seconds as he sits sipping. Not only will he be grateful and let them all have a go, he will be listening to their every word. He may even be blown away.

I will see George Lucas opposite me in a booth at McDonalds. He will reach out to my inner child, past my nerves and tell me: “It’s okay, we eat here too. We’re normal people, just like you.” Between mouthfuls of fries he will ask me what I thought of everything he’s done since Jedi and my inner child lets him know that it feels bruised and abandoned. He will say he appreciates the honesty and asks me if there’s anything I’ve been working on that he might be interested in.

Paris Hilton will be walking around. Just, walking around. And people will be taking pictures of it.

Matt Damon will be tossing a football around Hollywood Boulevard with Will Smith. Cars will stop their honking once they see the pair’s beaming smiles, remember how much they liked the last Bourne movie. And Damon will thank them for seeing it by using his designer polo to wipe the dirt from the windscreen. That is until they confess it was a pirated copy, at which point he will disappear into Tom Ripley, cold and awkward, before Will Smith jogs over, throwing a strong arm over Damon’s brooding shoulder and breaks the silence. “Aww he’s just playing, we don’t really care, so long as you get to see our work.” After genuine laughter Damon will apologize, actors just can’t help themselves he says. “We earn too much to give a fuck anyway.” The pair will high five and the car full of people won’t notice that Smith has keyed ‘Fresh Prince owns this’ into the door.

This is how LA will be like. I swear.



Yep, I’m going to be stalking the Loews Santa Monica Beach Hotel as one very small but captivated little fish.