Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Well... well, like to get this job. I mean, did you do, or... or were you asked to do anything lewd or unsavory, or... or, otherwise repulsive to your... your person, huh?

Two years ago I was in Miami working on a car commercial. We're on top of a camera car shooting off mounts and hand held and a Technocrane. It was a shit ton of work. The director was a fashionable little idiot who, in a previous life, got stuffed into lockers on a regular basis back in jolly ol' England. I think the English would have described him as "a right cunt." Every few minutes, in between shots, he would start talking about something with the DP (my friend and the reason I was in Miami) and the producer. Every subject he brought up seemed to be something he had an opinion on but knew nothing about. Literally. Nothing. It was an odd serious of demonstrably incorrect statements. The DP and producer didn't correct him or try to really keep the conversations going and I'm not sure if this was due to their ignorance of said subjects or their boredom with the director.

I know now that what I did probably wasn't politically intelligent but hey, I did it. Cry two tears in a bucket, fuck it. I began to engage the director and ever so gently correct him. Apparently this got on his nerves as promptly after lunch when I corrected him on the dates of the American Civil War he looked at me with his hamster face and blurted out, "It must be hard knowing everything." I smiled, looked off into the distance and fiddled with the remote focus unit for the Technocrane. It was hot and sticky humid but occasionally a salty breeze would blow off of the Atlantic. None of that helped the situation. I never said anything after that until we got to the wrap party. Even then I avoided the director or just grinned like the Cheshire cat and nodded when he spoke, eventually disappearing in a cloud of blue-white Camel smoke. It was all so annoyingly awkward and easily resolvable with a brick.

I'm in Miami right now. I got in around 2pm and by 2:01pm I realized I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday back in Los Angeles. As soon as I got to the hotel I wandered around until I ended up at a nice little eatery, sat at the bar, ordered a glass of wine and some food, and who walks up but Hamster Face the Director. The world is a very small and cruel place indeed. After a few minutes of civilized bullshitting a la Hollywood he drops the line I think he'd been rehearsing the whole time. To whit, "So, how's knowing everything been working out for you?" He's grinning now, staring at me with hot little hamster eyes set too close together in his hot little hamster face. I realize that what's about to come out of my mouth is most assuredly not politically intelligent but I'm not working for this idiot right now. I am, I think, the picture of calm as I sip my wine, ruminate and come back with, "It would be easier if I didn't work with so many people who were so sensitive about knowing nothing." I am smiling again, trying to look normal and polite and not at all like I'm laughing like a maniac in my head.

He retreated after that.

I ate my calamari and my arugula and drank my wine.

Work starts tomorrow out here in humid Miami where there once lived a happy Hamster Face Director. I get to go back to my awesome wife and daughter and dog and new house on Saturday. Everything until then is just civilized Hollywood bullshit.

Peace out, bitches!

5 comments:

Mr. Moose said...

"It was all so annoyingly awkward and easily resolvable with a brick."

I love that sentence.

Now, short of a brick, the second best revenge is of course a life well lived. But the very best revenge, and more immediately gratifying, is a phrased well turned. Good job, sir!

ps - I sent you something from RC that I think will help you pass the time!

savannah said...

a quote from blade runner and a quote from you that i will use at the next possible opportunity! i second mr. moose! well done you!

p.s. we're in the same time zone. call. :)

captain chaos said...

Moose: thanks for noticing my sub-par writing skills, again. It means a shit load to me when you think I've actually written something worth mentioning. As for your email about writers in the 40s: It is one of the saddest things in my world that Chandlers words still fall on deaf ears. At the same time I do take some measure of solace in his writing as I often think the same thing as I longingly look at other possible futures for myself.

Ma: Thank you as well for the kind words for my childish scribbling. As for the time zone, all I can say is I'm workin' here! (Guess that movie allusion and I'll finally send y'all some Pete's Hawt Sausages!), and I'll call you ASAP.

CreoleBeBop said...

You can never have enough bricks.

savannah said...

dude, you should send them finallyJUST BECAUSE I CAN'T! :)