New York City still seems to attract people in search of fame and fortune, although many argue that Hollywood is really the true mecca for being discovered. New York seems to have recently become more of a playground for the rich, especially the new rich who are generating code, creating apps and exploring new ways to connect through smart media.
So maybe Sam Osbourne ought to be going to Hollywood, because he was certainly not a media developer. Sure, he had a smartphone, but that's nothing to write home about. Sam was simply a good looking dude from New Mexico. He would probably be discovered in Hollywood at the drop of a hat. Going to New York would be much more of a challenge. There was still some mystery about New York. New York was like a magic potion that drew you to be a part of it.
Sam Osbourne was 6'7" and a lady killer. What's more, he could sing circles around any leading man on Broadway. He was a natural. At least that's what he and his friends thought in Santa Fe. He had played in musicals, even an opera or two while in Santa Fe, not always the lead, but he was very popular on and offstage. He was at every party. Inviting him insured the party's success.
Everyone urged Sam to go to New York.They were certain he would become famous. His high school drama teacher encouraged him, and the director of his choir had commented that Sam was the best prospect for success in New York since Dennis Hopper or Val Kilmer...or even Adrian Grenier.
With such endorsements, Sam began to believe he would be making a big mistake if he didn't go to New York. The truth is that such success always came easily for Sam. He really didn't need to make an effort. He was always the captain of his teams in school. He was voted most popular senior on his high school website, and the most likely to succeed.
Almost the moment Sam joined FaceBook he had more than 1500 friends and he was constantly flooded with requests. People followed him on Twitter, and his popularity grew seemingly with each advance of social media. He was an instant hit on Instagram. He enjoyed the Fame generated by the social media. This modest taste of Fame whetted his appetite. There was something about becoming famous that was delicious, like some exotic elixir that became habit forming. Now he wanted Fame so bad he could taste it.
You have probably surmised that Sam didn't go to college. Sam thought college would be a waste of time. Maybe he should have gone to Hollywood he thought. Look at what happened to Tom Cruise fresh out of high school in New Jersey. He went to Hollywood and became a super star. Almost overnight. Tom Cruise had it right. College was for losers.
Sam Osbourne posted on FaceBook that he was going to New York. He received hundreds of comments. There was advice on some people to see. But Sam was way ahead of his followers. He had already looked up top agents in New York City and sent them his resume and headshot, with a link to his website.
Sam had such an impressive website, he was surprised that he hadn't received offers and propositions from that. Well, actually he did have a few propositions, and he had some mind blowing encounters with a few women who had something in mind other than show business.
Finally, Sam announced on FaceBook and in his messages and Twitters that he would be staying at the New York Marriott Marquis in the heart of Times Square, on Broadway. He was arriving that Sunday. He sent out his Cell number to the many contacts.
Sam booked Southwest Airlines direct to LaGuardia. He wouldn't be wasting time at JFK with all those international travelers trying to get a cab. He'd land directly in the city that never sleeps. The flight was four hours and one minute.
The cab to the hotel was exciting. Sam relished the skyline and felt a nervous anticipation as he approached Times Square. The taxi pulled into the receiving area for the Marquis hotel. Sam collected his bag (he travelled light) and checked in. From his suite on the 47th floor he could look out the window at the east side and also look down below to Times Square and Broadway.
He thought to himself: it doesn't get any better than this. It had been all so effortless. He wondered why he hadn't come sooner. It was Sunday evening and he went downstairs and walked around Broadway and the side streets with all the glittering theatres. There was the feeling of Autumn in the air, and Sam could almost taste how delicious it would be to enjoy the NYC feast of fame. He took selfies in front of the Broadway theaters, in Times Square, the Great White Way... His FaceBook became the personification of the excitement of Broadway, and there was Sam, in the middle of the milieu.
At last, he thought, I'm finally home where I ought to be. As he returned to the hotel, he checked at the desk. There were no messages. This didn't bother Sam. After all it was Sunday.
It is somewhat puzzling and a mystery as to what happened the rest of the week on the 47th floor of the Marquis Hotel. Sam sat by the hotel telephone, and also made sure the battery was charged on his smartphone. He checked his messages and texts. He checked his website.
But nothing happened. No one seemed to notice Sam Osbourne had come to the Big Apple. He watched television, and checked the Internet. He sent a few emails, but he received no replies. For the next four days there were no calls, no messages, no offers. Sam sat alone in his room waiting to be discovered.
On Friday, Sam Osbourne checked out of the Marriott Marquis and returned quietly to Santa Fe. His whole affair in the Big Apple left a bad taste in his mouth.
He thought to himself, "Yeah. I shoulda gone to Hollywood."
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