“I don’t really dig your name,” Saul said to the Big E, a strangely personal comment coming out of the blue, as he mindlessly flipped through the pages of Big E’s promotional notebook.
“My name?” he asked, nearly dumbfounded by Saul’s boldness, exploding with a hearty laugh of experience at the naive insight of a mere child. “What’s wrong with my name?”
“I beg your pardon,” said Saul sincerely, having no desire to offend, purely wanting to discuss the matter professionally. “It just seems so ordinary, not at all the kind of name I could imagine seeing in lights.”
“The Big E. I can see it.”
Saul shook his head and went back to turning photos of shows performed years before.