In the early 90s, I squatted out in LA, making my way, the only way I knew how (but that's just a little bit more than the law would allow). Anyway, I got a job working craft services for Sidney Pollack's remake of Sabrina.
Many people don't know that Harrison Ford loved Coke II. He drank the hell out of it. They had to keep cases of it in stock. I know what you're thinking: "Why didn't they just buy Pepsi?" Because Harrison Ford liked Coke II.
One day on the set, Mr. Ford was relaxing between takes, enjoying a tasty Coke II. He set the drink down to sign an autograph for someone, and when he went back to his beverage, he found it missing. He was yelling and tossing furniture around. It wasn't a good scene.
At that same moment, as luck would have it, I was treating myself to a nice Coke II. Mr. Ford caught this, and accused me of stealing his. There was nothing I could do, my goose was cooked. I was escorted out by security.
I've tried to patch things up with Harrison Ford, to no avail; not that I care anymore: did you see Firewall? Can you say ew?
I did, however, find out that it was not simply a matter of circumstances that cost me my gig on that production. My co-worker, Sal Falsano, a stout, grotesque, little man of Italian decent from North Jersey, had the hots for this girl, Janine Bruebecker from Encino, who was a part of craft services with us. To make a long story short, she was repulsed by Sal, but in love with me, and he was jealous. So he waited for his perfect moment, and made the steal.
Unfortunately, the incident only endeared me more to Janine. She loved my devil-may-care attitude in taking Harrison Ford's drink. I think if Sal learned anything from this, it was that no manner of intrigue can change the fact that one is a grotesque, little, fat man.
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