California Dreamin' Part 2

Thursday (11/5)

Bright and early. Have to head to the lot. Not the parking kind, the movie kind. Drive past security gate and then through a production. Completely in fear that I’ve just ruined some major blockbuster on my first day. I didn’t. Make my way into the building housing my colleagues. Like the bizarro world of my office; coworkers like that on the East coast but yet not like the East coasters. Instead of drab walls there are glass walls. Instead of broken toasters there are master chef kitchens. I like this…and yet I miss the smell and feel of NY.

Hang with Laura until I link up with one of my two bosses who parades me around like a proud dad. I blush. 15 times. I’m recognized (because my photo is on the company homepage.) Completely unnatural experience. Mini-stardom. Doubt this could ever feel normal. Walk around placing faces with phone voices. Have an ordinary chat with the co-head of the studio. Discuss things like Yonkers and why they still race horses. What did you expect? A movie pitch? :-) Meet with casting group. Head shots everywhere. Big smiles and stern looks jump at me from glossy paper. So that’s what my head shot looks like when I’m not the one looking at it. Talk about the likes of new talent. Learning session. Walk out feeling more like a producer, less like an actor. Totally ok with that.

Been around for a few hours but walking around like I stomp there daily. Out the door with Couper and Steve S to grab some lunch. There may be traffic in LA, but driving out for lunch is way more doable than…well it’s NOT doable in NY. Settle at CPK. Steve asks me all about The Work Jerks. I’m flattered and honored, because he’s a funny dude. I feel like a role model, and yet I’m not. I give all the credit to the fact that I’m surrounded by very talented people who don’t ask me to pay them (yet.) We eat and chat, frequently interrupted by my ADD BFF. I laugh. Often. This LA thing is fun.

I make it a point to stop in on my fellow assistants who I book appointments with regularly. I’m called a celebrity. I am still but an earthling, not fully in the clouds. These are my trench buddies. Hellos and hugs we share. I laugh that my 15 minutes won’t last forever. I’m then pulled away with the words “So and so wants to meet you, come on!” Damn my feet hurt! Make one last meeting with Ines, who I have never met but thanks to the homepage spotlight, have made fast friends with. I’m asked to describe NY to someone who has never been there (or maybe was only there once?) I’m stumped. Suddenly know nothing of my hometown. Am I losing myself already?

Swing back to hotel to pick up Jaime who has made Venice beach his home for the day and has a tinge of tan on the tip of his nose. My pale face stains with jealousy. Redressed, we head to Santa Monica for dinner at BOA. Immediate release of my car keys to valet. No one parks their own car in LA. Join one of my three friends who we are meeting at a table in the back. Lights low. Candles lit. And all I can think about is steak. And all I can notice is the large man sitting next to us with a hat and coat on, yet he doesn’t seem like he’s leaving. Quick glance again. Ah! He’s Brad Garrett. I inconspicuously reach for my cell phone and text the friends surrounding my table. Just as inconspicuous, they find their way of responding to my message. Then we play the game of pretending he’s not there. Food arrives! Brad who?

Filet mignon falls to pieces on my tongue. Mashed potatoes rush in after them. Brad leaves. New couple arrives. Older man. Younger woman. I think they manufacture couples like these in bulk here in LA. Minding our own business. Small commotion comes from cradle-robber table. We’re human, we look left. New woman is standing beside seated man. She says: “Funny seeing you here. Who is your friend?” Look of worry comes over man’s face. Look of “we love drama!” falls on our faces. Talk gets softer then standing woman asks if the man will step away with her for a moment. Quickly, we return to the very interesting non-existent convo we were having. Except for Couper, he makes eye contact with the girl left behind. Girl says to him: “I think that was his girlfriend.” She’s brought him in, and by default, we are now all involved. Girl continues: “This is our first date.” One of us says “Then maybe it should be your last.” Girl contemplates but man returns. Straining to hear them because my brain has been affected by wine consumption. Darn! A cookie platter is placed in front of me. Ah, sweet sugary goodness! Wait, what was I talking about?

After many laughs and reenactments by Jaime and Couper the night winded down and once again I was falling asleep standing up. Said our goodbyes and headed to valet. A Saab is parked in front of me. I recognize it as my friend’s. Were this NY, I would drive away with it as a joke. Instead, I swap tickets, grab the right car, and head to the hotel once more. Sleep finds me quickly.