Flush it Friday: >>Exeunt, pursued by Russian Adam Driver

October 7, 2022

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Another famous Italian role taken over by an American pretty boy, why are we even surprised? Adam Driver is gonna play Enzo Ferrari, hopping his reign of terror from Milan to Modena. That’s what all the internet grumping is about, right? Not some sitcom actorino playing an 8-bit plumberino. Ah, but this does remind me of a story quite relevant to the day’s events, let me relate to you:

In the years before we met (they seem so far gone today!), my husband worked at a pie shop in Seattle. A very directly named Pie Shop which will, for discretion, remain unnamed directly, and this pie shop was itself the survivor of a fad from some years prior concerning pies baked in single servings. It was truly on its last legs, and the pie shop is closed now, shortly after he quit. But between him and his fellow bakelings, in those early months of 2017, (somewhere around Pi Day, to be sure, the very apex of pie shop business), there were sightings, yes, delightful sightings of an enigmatic strider on the sidewalk, who earned the absent title of Russian Adam Driver.

An excellent likeness, or so my husband claims, such that all in the shop accepted at once this moniker, forthwith, to the extent that this soul’s true name is as yet obscured. And should we want to know the true name of Russian Adam Driver? What has he done that earns scrutiny any more scouring than the innocent chuckles of piemasters? Russian Adam Driver even ordered a pie himself, on occasion, and it was conjectured that he may even live in the same building, above the pie shop, in some nondescript halfway house or other short-term domicile. This theory was obliquely confirmed as sightings of Russian Adam Driver became further and fallower between, until all at once they ceased, and we may assume he is off living his life the way any of us would, assuming also that any of us bore such a humorously juxtaposed aspect of Hollywood stone-faced faux-Italian Adam Driver.

There was one final sighting however, and this forms the crux of the yarn hereto related, where another acquaintance, not my husband but a friend of his and mine, who in spite of all natural laws of chance and improbability found herself face-to-face with Russian Adam Driver, on the screen of her phone, gazing stolidly from a Tinder profile. His bio was as succinct a presence as the man himself, a kiss to seal the story of his wraithly passing:

“hard fuck 12 inches”

It will never again be another Pie Shop Pi day, but it is, at this exact moment, Bandcamp Friday. My recommendation? The new Escuela Grind is on vinyl.