the passenger in 17d

if you ever have the misfortune of inhabiting a confined space with me for any length of time (be it an elevator, a car ride, a sporting event, etc.) you will notice that i have a præternatural ability of carrying on a dialogue entirely in questions. if all goes according to plan, the end result of my salvo of queries is *hopefully* a rare bit of information that small talk between strangers would never normally have elicited.

this was the case with a mustachioed indian man named sachiv who was on my return flight. a summary of our conversation:

raynor: are you visiting boston on business or pleasure?
sachiv: both. i am seeing my girlfriend but am also on business.
r: what do you do?
s: i’m an investment banker.
r: and do you want to be an investment banker for the rest of your life?
s: actually, my father and i have started a company.
r: an investment banking company?
s: no, a production company. we are making a bollywood movie.
r: what is the movie about?
s: it is about a father and his son.
r: what is the plot?
s: (with obvious hesitation) it is about how the father schemes to kill his son so he can marry his son’s girlfriend.
r: who wrote the script?
s: my father.