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Shane and the Burger Disease
In the late ‘80s, I worked as a television writer for Autotrends on the Financial News Network (now defunct). The show offered automotive reviews, segments on classic cars and interviews with industry personalities. I was paired with a producer named Shane. He was a tall, former college football player from Michigan who’d come to Los Angeles to become an actor. He fell into producing after meeting the owner of FNN at a local bar.
Each morning, Shane drove to Gold’s Gym in Venice for a workout then stopped at a local juice bar for a protein smoothie. Shane was smitten with the owner of the juice bar, a woman named Helen. He’d wax poetic about her flowing brown hair, deep green eyes and curvy figure that would make a monk renounce his vows.
One morning, Shane asked me to join him at the juice bar. He introduced me to Helen saying, “This is the girl I’m going to marry.” She rolled her eyes then blended his favorite banana, kale and apple smoothie. She was friendly and attractive and I could see why Shane fell for her. He nudged me with his elbow.
“My friend wants me to ask why you won’t go out with him,” I said.
“Tell your friend I’m taking a break from boys,” she replied. “Too much heartache.”
Shane was undeterred. He asked her out every single morning for the next month. Each time she smiled…
