Interlude

On the way to the bank just now, I spotted the telltale movie lights aimed at a crowd on the north side of West 15th. (Stars! Pictures for my blog!) I came back from the bank only to see the lights shut down and a crowd of extras surging down the sidewalk, running toward and past me. Where we are going? a woman cried. I don’t know, someone else yelled, laughing. Policemen were running too, but who knew whether they were actors, or actual NYC cops. The extras clumped on the south side of the street, presumably to be ferried to the next location. It occurred to me that I could have stepped on line, joined the cast of the movie, and no one would have noticed a thing. But what about Mark? The big night ahead downtown? Passersby walked their dogs. Beside the lined-up extras a delivery man unloaded lemons from a truck, stacked them beside the back door of the West Side Market. I held up my cellphone but all the shots were boring. And no wonder people still raise a fuss about truth in nonfiction.