Hemingway goes up to the counter and orders one espresso. It’s hot. He drinks it in silence. It makes him remember his father’s cabin. He thinks about the woman he loved once. He does not smile. The coffee reminds him of war - short but painful, swallowed down quickly. One could order worse drinks. He leaves Starbucks and walks out into the rain.
"The first time I met Bryan Cranston, he was standing in his underwear. We were doing a photo shoot for a little-known network called AMC, and he was in a rubber chemistry apron, tighty whities and desert boots, while I was in an impeccably tailored 1960s suit, with slicked-back hair and a cigarette dangling from my mouth. Our shows hadn’t premiered yet. We were simply two actors, in costume and out of context. He was friendly, funny, gregarious, humble and lovely.” - Jon Hamm