Believable or Not

Westley Chow
April 2, 2009

Unbelievable

“So where to next?” asks John. Randy replies sharply, “Latitude.” The three of us started out at Stout and made our way from there to Catwalk, Flash Dancers, and a few other local bars on the west side. This wasn’t unusual for me, going out on a Thursday night after work perusing the streets of New York City for excitement. Going bar hopping was once a rare celebratory event only reserved for birthdays. Now it had become a routine; exploring the streets, knowing little that a crisis was imminent.
It wasn’t soon after we got out the cab and walked half a block that we heard the shrill cry of a woman’s voice and the thud of a body dropping to the ground. My initial reaction was “Holy shit, what the hell was that?” Neither John nor I witnessed the event, but Randy saw everything in detail. “That woman just got punched in the face by those two guys running down the block. I think they took her bag!” That was my queue. A situation like this was just what I had been waiting for. It was time to test my metal and see what I was made of.
The chase begins, I begin running at speeds beyond my normal abilities. Adrenaline has taken over and my body is just reacting to its hormonal responses. Foolishly, the two thugs didn’t bother to look behind them and notice a dark figure chasing after them with the worst of intentions. They had a head start, but one block wasn’t going to be enough to stop me from putting a hole in their faces. In order to run more efficiently, I threw my thick leather jacket on the floor. Now I was even faster and more mobile; their time had come. “Yo motherfucker!” I front kick one of the two right into the side door of the car. In my peripherals, I can see people walking down the street turning their heads at the sound of a loud thud on a car and shattered glass. I turn slightly to my left and there he is, the other thief throwing a looping right hook, how predictable. I slip his punch and follow with my own devastating combination: left hook, cross, hook. He stumbles into the fence covering a nearby storefront. I stay on him, but turn quickly to see his friend drop the stolen bag and run. Now he’s dead; it’s one-on-one and I’m about to break this fool. I grab his shirt by the neck, push him against the cage and immediately visions of fighting in The Octagon flash before my eyes. Lucky for him, those thoughts gave him a split second to rip away and run in fear of the real dark knight.
I snatch the bag and walk back up the block to my comrades helping the poor helpless woman up. “Here you go ma’am.” Delighted but somewhat confused, she accepts the bag from my hand and thanks the three of us voraciously. My job here is done. The streets are safe… for now…

Believable

I just had to do it. You never expect to have to tell someone you admire that they're about to die.
I started at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer hospital last week and it's been an honor working with so many well-renowned doctors. Never in the past was I more proud of the place I worked in. I've done it all, from waiting tables, personal training, and bartending nights after nursing school. This was different; besides the fact that I was finally earning a decent living after finishing school, I had a chance to get to know the many famous people that came in and out of the hospital.
One of those people that I had the opportunity to meet in person during my rounds was Christian Bale. It's unfortunate that we met at the hospital under these circumstances, but I'll take what I can get. He played Patrick Bateman, his character in American Psycho with such dramatic talent that it immediately became one of my all time favorite movies.
So I've always had a thing for acting and I recently hired my agent to get me auditions, but none of them have gone well, meaning I haven't got an acting job in 2 years. I took Christian's stay at the hospital as an opportunity to get to know him as an actor and as a person. At first he was reluctant to coach a nurse, but after we got to know each other day in and day out, we became good friends. He said I was communicating too much with my voice and not my entire body. Overall, my actions weren't executed with enough conviction making them unbelievable.
I went home after one of Bale's lessons late one night and thought hard about what he had taught me. I looked at myself in the mirror and began practicing for a bit for my next audition tomorrow. This was for the role of a copycat serial killer on an HBO primetime drama. After some deep soul searching and practice, I went to bed happy with the work I had put in. This audition was going to go well because this time I had Christian Bale coaching me. I did my normal rounds earlier in the day, and made sure to stop by Christian’s room before I left for the audition. The lines had been ringing in my head all day. I just had to do it.
“Christian, you’re going to die.”
At first he looked at me with total seriousness. He didn’t know whether I was talking about the cancer or my audition. Then he read my facial expression as he would always do and said, “No, still not right. You need to work on the delivery more.”
What do you know, he ended up being right. I didn’t get the part at the audition.