Chapter 11
On my way to Lake Placid, I make idle conversation with my driver, Antonio, a wisecracking liberal with a penchant for French fries.
We have already stopped at a McDonald’s drive-thru in less than twenty minutes after leaving Milestone County.
As he eats, Antonio entertains me with his rants on the current dismal state of politics, popular music, and film.
I join the discussion when he asks me if any of my books have been optioned for film. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Licking his greasy fingers, he perks up, staring at me through the rearview mirror. “I wouldn’t give up my rights to those clowns. Nobody in the movie industry seems to know their ass from their elbow.”
My thoughts exactly. “I prefer reading to watching TV,” I say.
He taps his hand on the steering wh
