Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Right. That was on today’s agenda. He wanted to do that now? Before we did the podcast thing?
“How’s that on the topic of donuts?” I asked. Then I thought of the title of the show and raised my brows. “If that’s a joke on our podcast’s name, it’s terrible.”
He chuckled and leaned forward again, and he pulled out a couple documents from between the pages of a magazine. “It’s actually very on topic. I have it in writing right here—viewers like seeing Jake eat.”
Get the fuck out.
It really said that? How was that a thing? Weren’t they supposed to ask what people thought about the destinations we picked?
“What else does it say?” I asked. “That’s insane.”
He grinned and scanned the document. “It’s definitely the most extensive research they’ve done so far.” We hoped it was for a good reason. Ortiz had mentioned they spent time on the shows and hosts they wanted to invest in. “Apparently, you’re endearing and hot in some scruff, but I should be clean-shaven. Viewers respond favorably to your digs about my lack of finesse, at the same time as they like that I come off as a beginner. There’s a slight bump in ratings that might correlate to when we started listing our professions under our names during the intro.”
That was interesting. It’d been Ortiz’s idea to showcase that Roe was an investigative journalist and I was a combat photographer and filmmaker. Two titles that, for some reason, felt unearned. Perhaps not the former, but it wasn’t as if I had a degree in filmmaking.
“But it was around the time you joined me in front of the camera more too,” he added. “I think that plays a bigger role. They really like our dynamic. You’re the calm, steady big brother with experience in the wild—verbatim, for the record—and I’m the energetic teacher who engages with viewers of all ages. There’s actually a private note from Ortiz about a possibility to look into a future production geared toward children. That could be fun.”
Yeah, maybe.
I wasn’t ruling anything out. I’d come to grips with the fact that Roe and I would get more control once we were more established. In the meantime, we agreed to most suggestions from the network.
Ortiz believed we’d be green-lit for a third season too, at which point we’d get a film crew. He was already looking to fill two positions.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to add a food segment to the show?” Roe mused. “It’s sort of become a tradition that we eat lunch during the intro, but it’s always the same sandwiches we either buy on the way or make ourselves. Instead, it could be a local culture thing. Like, we prepare a meal over open fire or wherever we are, and we interview a local about the recipe or something.”
That didn’t sound bad at all.
“Aside from the fact that we’re worthless in the kitchen, I like it.”
He laughed. “We can learn. We learned to process baby food for Bear—that’s Jake’s little boy. He recently turned one, and yeah, he absolutely loved my gift for him. More so than the gifts his parents gave him.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he fucking recording? Was this the podcast episode?
He just smiled at me.
“You fucker,” I said.
He found that funny. “I’ll just edit that out.”
Jesus Christ, thanks for the heads-up.
“Don’t give me that look,” he chuckled. “I picked the best possible moment to do this. You’re too hungover to get uncomfortable, and you eased into conversation naturally because you had no idea I was recording.”
No, no, he was still a fucker.
I wasn’t ready to admit he had a point.
“Anyway.” Roe smirked at me. “You’re Off Topic with Roe Finlay and Jake Denver. I’m Roe, and Jake recently started a fun family tradition for us. As mentioned, we’re absolute shit in the kitchen, so we tend to eat out a lot. And when we have Jake’s son with us every other week, we wait with bated breath for Tuesdays and Thursdays, when the street we live on fills up with food trucks.”
It was actually Friday too…
“Jake and I love to eat,” Roe went on. “But you try going out with a buddy who’s married to his camera—without me, we wouldn’t actually eat anything. He’s too busy taking photos of the food joints, and he’s become somewhat of a star—”
“Oh, for chrissakes,” I laughed. “That’s a stretch.”
“The hell it is! You’re documenting LA culture—and the million tiny cultures within it—and they love seeing you. These are proud mamas and papas—and now, of course, trendsetters—who wanna show off their food traditions for Jake’s camera. There’s actually a running joke. They keep asking when Jake’s coffee table book is coming out.”
I grinned and shook my head.
“But it’s a nice tradition, innit?” Roe smiled, genuine. “I got my little pseudo nephew climbing on me while his daddy takes photos, and then I find what we wanna eat that night, and we stuff our faces on a nearby park bench. It’s the ultimate found-family moment for me. Makes it a lot easier when I miss my mad bunch on the East Coast.”