Friday, August 16, 2013
“Why hello, my Dear!” Bill Krien greets me. The renowned actor has seemed to change a lot since out last meeting two years ago. He's not so aloft, his smiles more than a veneer, his laughs not hollow. Things really seem odd.
“It's been too long, Molly.” He continues, more jovial than anyone has ever seen him. I'm taken aback. Worried even, has he finally succumbed to the downfall of the majority? What’s his drug of choice I begin to wonder.
As these questions and more run through my head (I do have a job to do after all) I'm lead into his posh home. Nothing here is fake, it never was, from the lion-skin rug to the Victorian wood furnishing, no detail is too small to be overlooked. Yet, that's not why I'm here, nor why you're reading this, my dear fans. You want answers....
“I hope you've been well, and I hope that stain came out, I heard red wine is a bitch to clean. I am sorry.”
“Well,” I begin, getting irked all over again but wanting to move on... “I shouldn't have called your portrayal of Robin Hood chauvinistic.”
“Well, I did play the “frothing loins” attitude up a bit with all that groping...but thank you.”
So, down to why I came here I decide...
“Mister Krien, you know why I'm here, I think.”
“Yes, Molly, I do.” He says nodding toward a photo on the darkly stained mantle, right above the gargoyle head. I look up, training my eye on the most out of place thing in the world.
“I realize I've changed a lot in the past year or so, opened up some...Thanks to my friend, Jeff.”
Looking at the picture I couldn't believe it, there stood Bill Krien with some “Unknown” (sorry, Jeff if you’re reading this), both covered in fresh bruises and blood. It looked like a scene from Fight Club. They may have been banged up and sore but they looked happy.
I bring that point up...
“Oh, we were, but it was a long road to that place. Here, let me give you the story you came here for.”
With the glee squeaking out of me like a dog’s chew toy I grab my recorder and press the big red button....