CHAPTER NINETEEN

"Spinning Top"



Monday, November 9


The weather forecast was a balmy 65 degrees. Josh looked out his window towards Central Park. Peggy wasn't awake yet, and he wanted to get some fresh air.

"Do you want to go out for breakfast?" He knew that would get her up.

She responded with a moan, "What time is it?"

"About 7:15 a.m. I'll bet we can find a great place to eat near the park."

"Go get the paper and spend an hour doing whatever you want Josh. Then, we'll go get breakfast. I want to sleep in a little longer."

He had already showered and dressed and the anticipation of being in New York City and seeing all the sights energized him. He gave her a kiss, and told her he would be back in awhile. He got in the elevator, and a few seconds later entered the lobby.

There were a lot of cameras and commotion outside the Plaza hotel, and Josh asked the desk clerk what was going on.

"Have you heard of the Corkscrew program? They're doing one of their street interview scenes. The guy's usually pretty hilarious."

He thought for a second, and responded. "Yeah, they recently expanded their coverage to our area in Maine. MSNBC headlines them on their weekly morning show."

The desk clerk continued, "Harris Quinn is Corkscrew's devious, and very amusing sidekick. He's always coming up with some crazy scheme to interview street people about current events. If you want to watch for a few minutes, they'll be on the air again soon. But, be careful. He's always trying to make somebody a fool for the national audience to laugh at."

Josh was familiar with Corkscrew. He had listened to the program on the radio when he was driving to work in the mornings. Corkscrew was popular in Maine and had been to Portland and Bangor with live TV morning shows. Corkscrew loved to humiliate people on the air, and made it hilariously funny. It was amazing to Josh that people would subject themselves to humiliation to be on his show.

Harris Quinn could be vile and obnoxious, but he had to admit he laughed at some of the idiocy. He thought, "wouldn't it be wonderful if I could turn the tables on that bastard."

Corkscrew loved to tee off on President Rowe for his infidelity. His program was dead when he didn't have anything but dull news. So he deliberately created havoc as often as possible. He had an unlimited number of conniving political and media personalities willing to be on his program. Sometimes Josh would get pissed and turn the car radio off.

Harris Quinn was on the sidewalk across the street from the Plaza Hotel. As expected, a large number of locals and inquisitive tourists were gathered around Quinn and two cameramen from the network. Josh decided to join the group, and watched for a break in traffic, instead of using the traffic light a block away. Fifty Ninth Street was eight lanes wide, and like a dumb shit, he got caught in traffic. Two cab drivers honking their horns incessantly started screaming at him, along with another driver in a big black limo.

Unfortunately, Harris Quinn saw it all, and simultaneously he was back on the air. "This must be some out-of-state idiot trying to cross the street against the traffic. Let's find out what motivates this guy to be so stupid." The camera's whirled on cue and picked up Josh just as he reached the sidewalk. The crowd opened up and everyone was salivating that Harris Quinn had picked up his next guinea pig.

Josh was embarrassed to be so foolish, and furthermore to be singled out by Harris Quinn. He knew immediately he was going to be chastised and roasted for the benefit of a national TV audience. The crowd opened up as Harris Quinn moved towards him. It was time for a new idea.

Harris was about ten feet away when he started yelling into the mike at Josh. "Sir, may I ask your name, and where you are from?" Josh stopped and looked straight into his eyes. He never answered. Harris instantly performed a gymnastic move that looked like a headstand. His head was on the sidewalk, his legs straight up in the air, and he dropped his microphone. Then he started twirling like a top, screaming his lungs out, with indistinguishable sounds. His rate of speed was making him look like a blur. A gorilla-like man standing nearby became a Good Samaritan and sent his hefty body into the twirling blurs of Harris Quinn, knocking him to the sidewalk.

The cameras focused on his quivering immobile form on the sidewalk. The crowd encircled him wondering if he was all right. He appeared to be unconscious, but not seriously injured.

Corkscrew could be heard over a set of headphones hollering, "Is Harris okay? Someone, god dam it, answer me!" A man with a cell phone standing nearby called 911 for an ambulance. Within moments a large white ambulance with red lights flashing, emblazoned with City of New York Safety and Rescue Team on the side, pulled up beside the prostrate figure of Harris Quinn.

Josh slipped quietly away from the group and moved to the regular street crossing waiting for the lights to indicate pedestrian access. No one was interested in him. On the other side of the street near the Plaza entrance, a young woman, in her early thirties dressed in business attire watched with considerable interest. She had been sitting in the lobby as Josh exited the Plaza Hotel. She followed him to the sidewalk and watched the entire escapade.

Josh was cussing to himself that he had been so carelessly numb to cross the street toward Harris Quinn the way he did. He decided to go back to the room and get Peggy for breakfast. The woman, who had been watching, was on her cell phone by the time Josh entered the elevator.



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