Last night, Gabi, Will, Matt, and I traveled to Salt Lake City and returned the film’s 1986 Oldsmoblie station wagon rental, which we affectionately named Woody. On our journey home, we decided to stop at Cold Stone Creamery and bring back some ice cream for those at home tirelessly editing, organizing receipts, securing venues for New York screenings, composing music, cleaning the kitchen, synching footage, etc.
We had fifteen minutes to get to Cold Stone before they closed at 10pm. We were at least twenty minutes away. Mission seemingly impossible. Matt guided us with his smart phone. Will called Cold Stone to announce our arrival and promise a big ice cream order. Gabi bent space and time, as she carefully drove the Acura. And I sat in the passenger seat, marveling at each of them. We pulled into our parking spot at 10:01 pm. Glancing at the open sign, we bolted out of the car and calmly walked into the Coldstone. The employees could not have been kinder. So Coldstone – thank you, thank you, thank you for accommodating us and our late night sweet tooth.
