WHO *IS* THAT GUY??
     We're in New York.  Bored with Manhattan we take a cab into
Greenwich Village.  Check out a cool punk store and look for some
coffee.  We find a tiny place and go in.  Because of the odd hour
it is nearly empty.  
     We sit, order.
     Hey How, Rich, says Karen.  Who *is* that guy?
     Over in the back, sitting alone, facing diagonally away from
us is a guy drinking coffee, leafing through a copy of Billboard. 
    He hears us and glances over.  Karen digs her nails into my
knee and my brother's.
     Shit, says Maria.  It's John Malkovich.
     A high-pitched squeak from the back of Karen's throat.     
Dangerous Liaisons, she says.  I'd do him if he asked me.      It's
not, says Howard.
     Well it *is* someone famous.
     We agree.
     But *who*?
     I know, says Howard.  Look at the hair.  It's Art Garfunkel. 
    Is not.
     Is.
     Follow me, says Karen.
     So we do.
     Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but could I have your
autograph?
     Why sure.  He beams.  Is very friendly.
     Hold on, says Howard.  You don't know what he's--
     She elbows him.
     You're John Malkovich. I thought you were great in Dangerous-- 
   He shames his head and laughs.
     Art Garfunkel?
     Laughs again, harder.
     Three strikes, Karen.
     Do I get a hint?
     Sit down, he says.  Shield me from the throngs of adoring
fans.
     We sit.
     Well, do I get that hint?
     He puts down his coffee and sings softly, in a voice that is
still high and beautiful and pure.
 
     [I've seen fire and I've seen rain.
      Seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
      Seen lonely times when I could not--]
 
      Maria joins, harmonizing.
     [--find a friend,
      But I always thought that I'd see you again.]
 
      Karen is shocked, breathless.
      He beams again and takes a sip of coffee.
      Karen says, rather loudly, James Ingram!
      The coffee comes out his nose and he laughs so hard we are
certain he'll hurt himself.
      Gotcha, says Karen.