Amy Irving’s Big Comeback
Amy Irving, the actress, and Eric Stoltz, the actor, were sitting together having a chat at a party celebrating a private screening of Bossa Nova, a spicy new film directed by Ms. Irving’s husband Bruno Barreto. She’s the star of the movie, too.
Ms. Irving had a glass of Merlot in one hand; her other hand rested on the left knee of Mr. Stoltz, who was wearing a turtleneck sweater and khakis. The two looked like they knew each other very well.
I interrupted them and asked her to name five or 10 things sensual.
“You want to know what turns me on, honey? Is this a come-on? Or is this an interview?” She took her hand off Mr. Stoltz’s knee. “I think the water in the north of Brazil, the feel of the water on my skin, a caperinha and a cigarette,” she said.
“For me,” Mr. Stoltz said, “it would be the thought of the water on Amy, in Brazil–that’s sensual.
“A first kiss.”
“Fierce or first?” Mr. Stoltz asked.
“A fierce first kiss. I’m thinking what I’m allowed to say but I won’t get in trouble for. There are so many things I cannot say, I have children and a mother alive. Well, No. 1 is sex with my husband. All the sexual fantasies American women have about Latin men are deserved.” She looked over at Mr. Stoltz, who was stroking his chin. “Now he wants to sleep with Bruno!”
“Jeez, I don’t know,” he said. “I like oral sex, but I don’t know if I can say that, because Amy’s a wife and mother, and I’m friends with her.”
“You didn’t say oral sex with me!” she said.
I tried to get them to talk about food.
“I like oysters!” Ms. Irving said. “I’m afraid they really are for real a wonderful feeling in your mouth. Am I a lesbian?”
“I like the thought of Amy eating oysters and contemplating her sexuality,” Mr. Stoltz said. “Food. I’d say any food. I’m just a, I’m a food whore, really, in a good sense … Dessert always works.”
So Mr. Stoltz got up to get some desserts. When he got back, Ms. Irving was talking about actors who turn her on. “I must say I really liked kissing Alec Baldwin. He’s a good kisser, really good. We did a film called The Confession. Actually Bruno, when he saw the film, he kind of kicked me, he said, ‘I can tell you’re enjoying yourself.’ And I have to say when that soccer player [in Bossa Nova ] pushed me up against the wall, I had wounds on the back of my shoulder where I’d been thrown up against it, and I just treasured them. I treasured my shoulder wounds.”
“Can we go to teenage years now?” I asked.
“You know what, I have a teenager now,” she said. “Eric, you tell a good teenage story.”
“I think that you have more than enough teenage stories, Amy,” he said.
“Actually I remember when Eric and I first met and he wanted to know if I had a daughter like me at home. You’ll never live that one down! But you don’t feel that way tonight, do ya, baby?”
“Not after seeing that movie,” he said.
Ms. Irving began talking in earnest about her teenage years. “I moved to Manhattan when I was 11. I was at P.S. 44, then I was at High School of Music and Art, and then I was at Professional Children’s School.”
“I went to the High School for the Performing Arts, the Fame school,” Mr. Stoltz said.
“We were right opposite each other!”
“Actually I didn’t,” he said. “I was just making that up.
“That’s the best thing to do. We should just make it all up. Yeah, my favorite teenage fantasy is when Albert Finney came to my house and had me on the floor, on the piano, everywhere. I used to have a thing for Albert Finney. After he was in Joe Egg [in 1967], I followed him from the dressing room, stage door to the restaurant, just kind of crying, wanting him. And he wouldn’t sign my, my program.”
“Can we talk about Carrie ?” I asked.
” Carrie 1 ,” Ms. Irving clarified. (She was in Carrie 2 , too.)
“Love that movie,” I said.
“Me too,” she said.
“That was the question? It was a bad question.” Ms. Irving took another sip of wine. “Do you want me to speak dirty in Portuguese?” She said a few things in Portuguese, then offered a translation. “The first one was ‘Go fuck yourself.’ The second one was just ‘fuck it’ and the third one was ‘son of a bitch’, that’s all.”
Mr. Stoltz said something in Hungarian, then translated it for me. “It means, ‘May a horse shove his dick up your ass ,'” he said. “It’s a pretty good one, isn’t it?”
Duffers v. Indian Givers
On April 6, Chipshot.com, a California-based Web site that sells golf equipment, came up with one of those crazy deals you see only on the Internet: They offered a $75 discount on orders of $80 or more. That meant you could get $80 worth of golf gear for five bucks.
The deal seemed too good to be true, and of course, it was. The company had screwed up. They’d meant $15, not $75. A few hours after the offer went up, the company noticed its foul-up and rescinded the offer. But in the meantime, a cadre of buyers on Wall Street had gone berserk. According to a company spokesperson, more than 250 orders had been submitted in a span of three or four hours.
“We actually thought it might be real,” said one real-estate investment banker in New York, trying to sound sincere. He said six of his co-workers racked up about $6,000 in orders during the four hours the glitch went undetected. He placed six orders, which included two boxes of Titleist balls, one Odyssey Dual Force putter and a Cleveland wedge. “We found out about it at noon,” the banker said, “and right away we had a whole phone network going, telling our friends all over Wall Street and all over the country. Everyone wants something for nothing.”
One Manhattan research analyst said he placed two orders–one for a $199 Callaway Big Bertha Steel Head 3-wood with a graphite shaft, and one for a $99 PureSpin Diamond Face wedge. But he received neither order. When he checked on them, he found that both orders had been canceled. “They never called, they never e-mailed me, nothing,” he said. “I can understand a screw-up, but to just cancel my orders without talking to me, that really ticked me off.”
Hani Durzy, director of corporate communications for Chipshot, said that the company has decided to honor the first order placed by each person, but will not extend the discount to multiple orders.
“These were obviously people trying to take advantage of our mistake,” said Mr. Durzy, who refused to reveal the total dollar amount the company gave away that afternoon. “And it was our mistake–nobody else’s. So we called or e-mailed everyone personally to tell them it was a mistake, and that we would honor the $75 discount for one order. But I mean, when you have a gift certificate from the Gap you can’t use it 10 times, right?”
Meanwhile the banker said he had not received any of his golf gear.
“They’re not shipping,” he complained. “I think they’re trying to get people to cancel their orders. So it’s kind of like a Mexican stand-off: I’m not canceling my orders, but they’re not shipping them. I mean, yeah, it was a mistake. But it wasn’t my mistake. And fair is fair.”