I finish my beer and go outside, thinking he may not even be there since I didn’t follow him out immediately. As I exit the doorway, I can see him standing against the far wall. With a cigarette lit, he kind of looked like James Dean. I walked over to him and shook his hand to introduce myself and he offered me a cigarette.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

“You here alone?”

“Yeah, just enjoying the night air.”

“You want to go somewhere a little quieter than Elixir and get a drink?” He seemed harmelss enough so I complied. Dan was youngish, late 30s I suspect, with dark hair and a handsome face. We started with the obligatory small talk and moved into more personal stuff, like my job. Continuing to exchange pleasantries, he mostly focused on me and offered very little about himself.

He looked at his watch, pulled out a business card and handed it to me, “Call me, we should talk” and he walked away.

I looked at the card.

“Dan Stringer, Producer, Paramount Pictures”