As I walked past the Lee Strasberg Theatre and Film Institute, birthplace of The Method, I overheard a man in his mid-30s, gesticulating madly with a cigarette in his right hand:
"What does she want from me? I mean, I've been spending the past four and a half months jetting back and forth between here and LA, going to my fucking sister's murderer's trial! Sitting ten feet from the guy and fighting every impulse to reach out and strangle that sonofabitch!"
I hope they were just rehearsing something.