Hollywood Director 1992

"Hurry up! Checking out, why does it take so long? Who would want any of the furniture in your hotel?"

Link urged at the front desk.

"Sir, after inspection, you wet the bed. We have to deduct your deposit as a cleaning fee," the stout black woman behind the counter said expressionlessly after hanging up the phone.

Whoosh!

More than a dozen guests waiting to check out at the front desk all looked over, scrutinizing Link with various playful eyes, and some even chuckled.

Whoosh!

Link's face flushed, a morbid flush appearing on his pale face.

"Nonsense! Don't try to frame me. How could a 20-year-old man like me wet the bed? Do you think that's possible?"

Link questioned with dissatisfaction.

Whoosh!

More than a dozen guests at the front desk felt that what Link said made sense. How could a twenty-year-old young man wet the bed?

Could this be a trick by the hotel to swindle guests' deposits?

Everyone turned their attention to the black woman, with a strong sense of suspicion and scrutiny.

The black woman didn't panic, rolled her eyes, and said, "Sir, there's a large patch of solidified stain on the bed sheet. It can't be milk spilled on it, right? Do you need my colleague to bring it over for verification?"

Swish!

Link's face turned red, and he clenched his fist and slammed it on the counter.

Swish!

Everyone's eyes returned to Link again.

Several women stared boldly at his lower body, and several men couldn't help but laugh.

Their eyes were full of teasing, amusement, and contempt.

Link's face was flushed, and he clenched his fist and slammed it on the counter. "Madam, what you're saying doesn't make sense. As a young man, can I control having wet dreams?

No, it's impossible. No man can do that, just like you women can't control sudden periods.

As fellow human beings, you should understand me, and you shouldn't humiliate me with this.

Also, since you have to wash the bedding, why do I have to pay an extra cleaning fee?

If these gentlemen and ladies accidentally leave a little mark on the sheets after checking in, will your hotel also deduct their deposit? Is this reasonable?

The crowd nodded in agreement, looking at the black woman with hesitant eyes, and some suggested to their companions to change to another hotel.

"Also, Madam, the heating in your hotel room is colder than a corpse, causing me to catch a cold and have a fever…"

"Okay, sir, you win."

The black woman rolled her eyes and took out a $10 bill from the cash register and slapped it on the counter.

"Madam, I don't really care about this $10, but what you're doing is unreasonable. I'm a very reasonable person. Also, I wish you a pleasant day at work."

Link took the $10 that should have been his, politely nodded to the black woman and the surrounding guests, picked up his backpack, and strode out of the hotel.

There was a tourist bus from Park City to Salt Lake City, Utah, every morning, costing $8.

Other bus tickets were more expensive, at $20 or more.

Link had to catch this bus, or he would have to walk back to Los Angeles later.

As he waited for the bus by the roadside.

A group of people in suits and leather shoes walked out of the Hilton Hotel across the street.

Walking in the middle was a fat man in a black woolen suit.

In his forties, short and stout, with a round face and a double chin, sticking out a big belly.

On that huge belly was tied a Hermes belt, like a rubber band tied around a balloon, and as he walked, you could almost hear the Hermes belt creaking.

The fat man walked and talked, gesturing, very imposing.

As he spoke, the people around him listened attentively, seemingly afraid of missing a single word.

Among the people around him, only one person was more relaxed.

This person was over 190 centimeters tall, with fluffy curly hair, below which was a long face like a pig's kidney, and a long chin that curved slightly upward at the connection with the lower teeth, like a curved banana.

This face, combined with his rugged features, looked both fierce and comical.

This person was Quentin Tarantino, a new director who had shined at the Sundance Film Festival this year with "Reservoir Dogs."

And the fat man next to him who looked like a toad was Harvey Weinstein, the current big shot in the Hollywood independent film circle, president of Miramax Films.

It is said that "Reservoir Dogs" was favored by Harvey Weinstein during its screening at the Sundance Film Festival.

Now they must be talking about film distribution.

"Hey, Quentin!"

Link shouted across the road.

He knew Quentin. Before coming to the Sundance Film Festival, he and Quentin lived in the same youth apartment in West Hollywood, but in different apartment buildings.

In the past few months, they had met a few times and were considered acquaintances.

After arriving in Park City, Link had gone to the cinema to watch Quentin's "Reservoir Dogs", and Quentin had also seen his "Buried".

But at the film festival, the movie "Reservoir Dogs" became a hit, and Quentin became increasingly busy, and Link had no chance to see him.

“嘿，昆汀！”

"Hey, Link!"

Quentin waved in response.

Before Link could speak, a black stretch Lincoln stopped by the roadside, and Quentin followed Harvey Weinstein into the car.

The beautiful body curve of the stretch Lincoln drew a faint shadow on the opposite street, and then disappeared on the cold streets of Park City.

A gust of cool wind swept through.

The bus arrived.

Link took the bus to the Park City bus station.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, he took a tourist bus to Salt Lake City, the capital of Utah.

Then from Salt Lake City, he took a train to Los Angeles on the West Coast.

Utah is in the western United States, with most of the area on the Rocky Mountains and the Colorado Plateau above 2,000 meters above sea level.

In January and February, the temperature in most parts of Utah is around minus 3 degrees Celsius.

The mountains are covered with snow and the cold wind is biting.

Every winter, many middle-class Americans come here for skiing and vacation.

Park City, where the Sundance Film Festival is held, is also a famous local tourist city.

But for poor people like Link, that place is as cold as hell.

As the southbound train passed through Nevada and entered California, warm sunlight shone into the car window, and Link couldn't help but shiver, slowly waking up from his sleep.

The sky outside the window was as blue as if it had been washed, and several colorful birds flew across the sky.

Brilliant sunlight scattered over the Providence Mountains.

The vegetation on the mountain is lush and flowers are in full bloom.

Southern California has a Mediterranean climate, with hot and dry summers and mild and rainy winters, with an average temperature between 18 and 30 degrees Celsius. No matter what temperature zone the plants are planted in, they can take root and grow here.

Here, you don't have to worry about freezing to death, but to eat well, have fun, and live with dignity, like in other cities, is also an extremely difficult thing.

"Hey, buddy, you're finally awake. Your backpack has been stolen."