Thurston McTry stood outside the lobby of the Empire State Building and waited to die. He did this as often as he could, during lunch breaks and on weekends, whenever the observation decks were open. The outfit was always the same: black hat, black trench coat, black shoes, black sunglasses. Under the trench coat: a cheap Spanish conquistador Halloween costume, complete with orange and black-striped tights, plastic chest plate mail armor, and a "realistic sword." In the trench coat pockets: powdered potatoes, Silly Putty, and rosary beads. Thurston had heard that every so often, children, or psychopaths, or both, throw pennies off of the building's deck, thus releasing the coin into a one hundred and two story free-fall, the physics of which are astounding, as such a release would surely result in the death of anyone that got in the way of said penny. Thurston wanted to be the first man to die in such a manner. Why? Just ask him:
Thurston: "I hate my life."
Channel 7 Reporter, live on the scene: "Why?"
Thurston: "Too much rope, not enough dope."
Channel 7 Reporter: "What does that mean?"
Thurston: "This whole world's bullshit, man. What does it all mean? What does your house in Connecticut and your Mercedes and your fake wife mean?"
Thurston was then joined every day by ex-Channel 7 reporter Lance McPhillips. Lance and Thurston became somewhat of a phenomenon in the Big Apple, inadvertently adding their piece to the city's cultural landscape. Tourists from all over the world began to make sure that the "bottom of the Empire State Building" was now a stop on the trek around Manhattan, and the Visitor Information Center began to include on maps "Lance and Thurston Pre-Memorial Landmark." An ambitious NYU student set up a stand near where the men habitually positioned themselves, offering "I'm with the Nihilist" T-shirts, posters of the two men superimposed over an image of the Empire State Building so that they appeared equally as tall, and later, an agency that took bets on who would be the first to get hit with a penny.
Speaking of which, the authorities at the Empire State Building were not amused in the least. The Observation Deck had to be locked and guarded by security at all times, after pennies began raining from the heights of the building. A man clad in black spandex and utilizing suction cups and rock climbing gear was fortunately spotted on the window of the 57th floor and was promptly greeted on the roof by police helicopters. Several rolls of pennies, along with super-strong binoculars, were found in his bag. Apparently, more people were interested in saying that they had been the first to take out either Lance or Thurston (or perhaps, by the grace of God, both), with a well-placed Mr. Lincoln than there were people willing to"take a penny" (as the baseball caps read).
Every so often, however, "pilgrims," as they liked to call themselves, would spend a few days standing with Lance and Thurston, scared out of their wits at the thought of being struck, but determined to overcome their fear as a purification ritual. Some small religions out west even sponsored bus trips to New York in order for the disciples to test their faith "under the Building." This caused an equally passionate backlash from the New York Baptist community. "Sometimes, you don't want pennies from heaven," began to ring out from many a Sunday pulpit. Equally popular was the "go home, lunatics you're gambling with your life," uttered under the breath of people on their way to the stock exchange.
Somehow, a brief scene in an adult video was shot near Thurston and Lance's post, as you could see the two men in the background, in between "symbolic cutaways" to the building. The video was especially popular with college fraternities. In fact, many college kids on a long weekend to New York would stop by to have their pictures taken with "the boys" and make sure Thurston and Lance knew they had an open invitation to any keg party, "if you're ever in Ithaca." Film students made documentaries, philosophy students engaged them in discussion, business students tried to get a forty percent cut of the profits if Thurston and Lance signed a contract for a five-year venture that enabled them to gain full ownership at the end of the term, plus stock options and access to a time share in St. Martin.
Thurston and Lance are still standing at the bottom of the Empire State
Building. They are polite to everybody, never sign anything, though, and
generally focus on one thing: waiting. They usually just stand there,
even as the Hare Krishnas dance and chant, mothers rush curious children
along, and street performers make them temporarily disappear. This Thursday, the city will honor the two men by giving them its keys, as they have
brought in more revenue than Broadway, the Statue of Liberty and Radio City Music Hall combined. The mayor will be on hand, wearing a special hard hat. As of press time, Mr. Lincoln has no comment.