Yo folks! Hope your weekend's been spiffy. Dave points us to a (very) short story in this week's New Yorker, evocative of Synecdoche, New York. It's called "Going For a Beer," it's by Robert Coover, and the opening lines go like so:
He finds himself sitting in the neighborhood bar drinking a beer at about the same time that he began to think about going there for one. In fact, he has finished it. Perhaps he'll have a second one, he thinks, as he downs it and asks for a third. There is a young woman sitting not far from him who is not exactly good-looking but good-looking enough, and probably good in bed, as indeed she is. Did he finish his beer? Can't remember. What really matters is: Did he enjoy his orgasm? Or even have one? This he is wondering on his way home through the foggy night streets from the young woman's apartment. (Source)
The New Yorker was constantly in the background of Adaptation, another of Charlie's flicks. Proving that LIFE'S A CIRCLE. And it's totally coincidental that a circle is shaped like a big ominous zero. Make of that what you will. I'm just here to provide conversation-starters.
If the short story disappears in the next few days, let me know and I'll upload a PDF.
Which reminds me, when Synecdoche plot details first began to leak, I thought of Richard Matheson's short story, "Mantage." Seek that one out too, if you're in the mood.