#344 Quentin Tarantino

**David Senra** (0:00)
So, who exactly was this Floyd character I was referring to earlier? His name was Floyd Ray Wilson, and he was about 37 And for a year and a half in the late 1970s, he lived in my house.
He used to date my mom's best friend Jackie, and years earlier, he would visit the apartment that my mom and I shared with her two roommates, Jackie and Lillian.
And every time he came by, it was exciting because I thought Floyd was really cool, and I could talk movies with him. And since he was a hip guy who saw a lot of shit, he could keep up.
I remember when Jackie introduced us. I was 10 years old, and she said, Quentin, Floyd's who you should talk to about movies. He knows as much as you do. So I, a 10 year old, started testing this grown ass man on his knowledge of movies. Finally, I was able to talk to somebody about movies who knew what the fuck I was talking about.
Also during this time, I realized the hard way that Floyd was a flaky guy who couldn't be counted on.
On at least two occasions, he told me he'd come over next Saturday and take me to the movies.
Oh boy, I thought, not just talking about movies of Floyd, but actually going to the movies of Floyd. But when Saturday came, no Floyd, no call, no excuse, no apology, just no show. He either forgot or he didn't give a shit.
And I was so excited too.
As the hours passed and I waited, and I waited, and I waited, and it got later and later, I finally realized he wasn't coming.
I wasn't mad, I was heartbroken.
I didn't even think of myself as a kid, but even I knew you didn't do that to a kid. But I forgave Floyd and played it cool the next time he came by. And a few visits later, he promised to take me out again. I made sure when he left that he remembered that we had plans and I'd be waiting for him. And he said, of course, no problem. See you next Saturday.
And the fucking guy did it to me again. But this time, I wasn't heartbroken. I felt lousy, but not crushed. It was just now I knew who Floyd really was. He was an adult I couldn't count on. This is a theme that's gonna reappear over and over again. Quentin's fierce self-belief and fierce independence because he was surrounded by a bunch of adults he couldn't count on. He was an adult I couldn't count on. I also promised myself when I grew up that I'd never do that to a kid.
Now, cut to 1978 I'm 15 going on 16 My mom's work is requiring her to spend more and more time away from the house, or she wanted to, and that was a good excuse, so she ran with it. Which happened to coincide with the age that I started getting in trouble a lot. Lot of fights in school, skipping school and staying out late. I was a young, wise guy who thought he was tough. So mom rented Floyd a spare room in our house with the provision that she keep an eye on her 16-year-old son.
I still thought Floyd was the coolest. Yeah, yeah, years ago, he stood me up. But since that time, I had gone through the whole trauma of being sent to Tennessee and put in the care of hillbilly alcoholics. I think that was his grandparents. So by that time, Floyd being a flake was easy to forgive. But it equipped me with two pieces of information that would prove valuable as our relationship moved forward. One, I could not count on Floyd. And two, I cared more for Floyd than he cared for me.
I'm sure my mom thought she came up with the perfect solution for the whole what to do with Quentin problem. At the time, I don't think she was aware of what a shady cat Floyd really was.
Nor did she consider the ramifications of having her very impressionable young son spend so much time around such a sketchy dude. It was sort of like moving Samuel L Jackson's character in Jackie Brown, Ordel Robbie, into your home and having him look after your 16 year old boy for over a year. And if you've seen Jackie Brown, then you know that Ordel Robbie was a character that was a gun runner, killed people, and attempted to manipulate every single person around him. During the year of 1978 and some of 1979, Floyd and I saw a lot of movies together.