TV Pilot Writing
and Dive Bar Hunting

Back and forth, their lawyer, my agent, their lawyer, my agent, for weeks and then a month and then two. Finally, my agent tells me I need to walk away from the deal, it isn’t fair, and I call the producers and say, “We need to meet.”

There are three and they’re all named Joe. I trek to their office on the third floor of a prewar building way the eff west on 34th Street, home to the junior Joe. They greet me with hugs and, as they’d done all during the summer, when I was writing a treatment for them, welcome me to the desk with the requisite bottle of water plus cookies, cocktail napkin, and coffee cup. China. You gotta love these guys. They have manners. (I know, I used to ghostwrite for Emily Post.)

And the amazing thing is: These nice guys, these courteous good people have been monumentally successful in the dog-doesn’t-return-dog’s-call world of New York.

The two senior Joes triumphed on Wall Street with their own little cell in one of the major firms, and everybody wanted in but they maintained their exclusive club: Joe & Joe. Now, they want to parlay that success by starting up a new TV production company, and—if we can only work out my contract—hire me to write the pilot, the very first episode of their sitcom.

via TV Pilot Writing and Dive Bar Hunting Ask a New Yorker | Ask a New Yorker – A Cultural Influence.

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