When I started working as an assistant for the Empress of International Film and Television Sales, it was a temp job, to make ends meet while I tried to make it as a screenwriter. But the Empress was soon addicted to my organizational skills. I was soon addicted to my paycheck and health insurance.
I worked long hours. In at 7-8 AM to deal with Europe, out at 7-8 PM after dealing with Asia. Right before film markets, the hours were even longer. At film markets and festivals, you were on duty 24-7. There were perks, though. Tables at the best restaurants had to be booked months in advance, with a deposit. If my boss got invited elsewhere, guess who got the pre-paid table? Me, and three friends. Sometimes it was me and some random people I’d literally just met. Continue reading Cakes & Bellwethers (#138)
I’m not a fan of strip clubs. The places called “XXX” and “Exotic Dancer” in Hollywood and near Los Angeles International Airport are dark holes, reeking of desperation. There are a few bachelor parties that wander in on Friday nights, but for the most part, the clientele consists of socially awkward men. In fact, the LAX clubs do a nice business thanks to the lunch breaks of engineers in El Segundo’s aerospace/ defense companies. (Gotta wonder who signs off on THOSE security clearances.) Continue reading The Reluctant Bachelorette (#58)
If you ever worked in the entertainment industry, a movie premiere was just an extension of your workday. A 5-6 hour extension, if you added in driving and parking. 6 out of 7 movies made by my employers were terrible, but God forbid Big Boss A caught you tacitly admitting this by sneaking out. Continue reading Andy Goes to Hollywood (#14)