After it broke up around 11, everyone else sensibly went home or back to their hotel. I walked with Jim for a while. He likes to walk. "You know," he said, lighting up another American Spirit cigarette, "all during dinner there was one thing I could not get out of my mind." I hoped it might have something to do with the film, praise for some visual flourish the editor and I had achieved, or perhaps he was going to share something sacred and personal. "What's that, Jim?" I asked. "A Papaya King hotdog," he said. "Are you up for it?" The concept was inconceivable to me after the meal we had just survived.
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