Ted called me the next morning.
"So, did you check out Susan Ellen's site? What did you think?"
I came to the assumption that Thirty-Third Star was some kind of diet pill company. Hilarious.
I wasn't going to burn any bridges at this point in my Hollywood career. I thought this was the route to get ahead. I faked interest. Like most American girls, I used to be obsessed with Hydroxycut when my ballet instructor gave me body dysmorphic disorder. Maybe if I could recall my insecurities to help me get into character…
"Seems interesting," I said, "Maybe Susan Ellen can help me get a better body."
"Rebecca! Don't be silly. If you lost any more weight you’d be a q-tip with eyeballs."
As much work as I did learning to "love and accept my body", at this moment, I completely fell in love with Ted. My gaydar shifted into full gear, and I sincerely wished he could be my new fag to hag.
An hour later Ted called again.
"Susan Ellen wants to know if you can come in right now. Do you think you can get there in a half an hour?"
"I don't think I can," I answered. "I'm located in Silver Lake."
And she works with celebrities and I'm not showered and all of my nice-in-case-I-ever-meet-a-celebrity-clothing is lodged in the back of my closet.
How come I know more about Hollywood traffic and logistics more than a gay man who has been here years longer than me? Something was up...
I told Ted I'd get there in an hour and a half. There was no time to shower. I pulled out a pair of black leggings and put on a loose blouse. I put a belt around the blouse and threw on a pair of black heels. As I put on my over sized sunglasses to truly try and blend in with the fashion of working girls in Hollywood, I realized that every piece of clothing was from Good Will.
Whatever. I thought I looked great. Susan Ellen, here I come.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Chapter 13
A week later I get a call from Ted.
"Rebecca, we have an opening for you. Now, it's not really in the entertainment industry per se..."
Mind you, this temp agency's motto is "Staffing for the Entertainment Industry."
Ted hears my eyes roll.
"Well, it is involved in the entertainment industry I guess."
Given that I paid $40 dollars for gas that morning and my boss at my other part-time job was pretending I didn't exist, I could settle with "involved in the entertainment industry."
"Do you ever watch TV late at night and see those infomercials?"
My eyes lit up.
Please for the love of God let me work for Aqua Doodle.
That would be fucking amazing. I knew watching Adult Swim was worth something.
I answer yes. Ted continues:
"The company is called [Thirty-Third Star] and it's run by a woman named [Susan Ellen]. Basically you would be doing office maintenance. Typing, filing, answering phones, that kind of thing."
"Sounds good," I answer. (In hindsight, I can't believe I said, “"Sounds good." Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.)
Ted gave me Susan Ellen's website and told me he'd call me again the next day with the specifics.
I went to her website. On the homepage, there was a picture of a woman, who I assumed was Susan Ellen, with three tiny-white dogs.
I clicked around and noticed some spark words such as "treatment", "detoxification", "The Da Vinci Code", and "body inches".
What the fuck was this company?
"Rebecca, we have an opening for you. Now, it's not really in the entertainment industry per se..."
Mind you, this temp agency's motto is "Staffing for the Entertainment Industry."
Ted hears my eyes roll.
"Well, it is involved in the entertainment industry I guess."
Given that I paid $40 dollars for gas that morning and my boss at my other part-time job was pretending I didn't exist, I could settle with "involved in the entertainment industry."
"Do you ever watch TV late at night and see those infomercials?"
My eyes lit up.
Please for the love of God let me work for Aqua Doodle.
That would be fucking amazing. I knew watching Adult Swim was worth something.
I answer yes. Ted continues:
"The company is called [Thirty-Third Star] and it's run by a woman named [Susan Ellen]. Basically you would be doing office maintenance. Typing, filing, answering phones, that kind of thing."
"Sounds good," I answer. (In hindsight, I can't believe I said, “"Sounds good." Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.)
Ted gave me Susan Ellen's website and told me he'd call me again the next day with the specifics.
I went to her website. On the homepage, there was a picture of a woman, who I assumed was Susan Ellen, with three tiny-white dogs.
I clicked around and noticed some spark words such as "treatment", "detoxification", "The Da Vinci Code", and "body inches".
What the fuck was this company?
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Chapter 12: The Temp Agency Part C
My new temp agent.
He was a man who had the looks of William H. Macy and the voice of Tim Gunn. He was once a top agent for film directors and for some reason he got demoted to being a temp agent for bums who just like watching films. Due to his work with high profile people, he will be known as Ted.
I could write loads about Ted's personality, but I think you'll be able to figure it out yourself as I now provide for you a transcription of what when down in this interview. The italics include the thoughts that went through my head that were never spoken.
***
TED: Well, you seem to be a good typist, know a lot of important software. Oh! I see you went to Emerson.
ME: Yup.
TED: We like Emersonians out here.
I never know what to say when people say that. Especially because I hate most Emersonians.
ME: Okay.
TED: So, tell me, Rebecca, what aspect of the entertainment industry do you see yourself working in?
ME: Well, I'm not sure, but something creative.
TED: What are your career goals?
ME: Well, right now I'm really interested in comedy. I think I want to be a comedy writer.
TED: You're not saying the magic words, Rebecca.
ME: Wha- I mean, excuse me?
TED: You're not saying the thing that you want to do in order to help your career.
Is he asking me to blow him?
ME: Okay… what should I be saying?
TED: That you want to work in an agency.
ME: Oh, I don't want to work in an agency. That I know.
TED: Yes, you do.
ME: What?
TED: Working in an agency is the best way to learn the inner-workings of the entertainment industry.
So is selling coke in the champagne room…
ME: Yeah, but I don't want to be an agent. It seems to me, and I could be wrong, that agencies really like to hire people who want to become agents.
TED: But you want to be an agent…
ME: No. I don't.
TED: You're open to being an agent...
ME: No. I want to be a comedy writer.
TED: Okay, okay. But what if you reach a point where you no longer want to be a comedy writer?
ME: I never really thought about it.
TED: So, you never really thought about NOT not being an agent.
ME: What? I guess so.
TED: Okay, great. I'm just going to jot down here that you're interested in being an agent.
ME: I’m not sure-
TED: Do you know how much power you would have working at an agency? Let's say you read a script that you need to do coverage on. And Brad Pitt's agent calls and says, "Rebecca! My client Brad Pitt needs a project, stat!" And you had just read a script that Brad would be great in! Brad's people read it. Brad accepts. Suddenly, people come to you saying, "Hey- hey Rebecca! Get Brad on the line we need to discuss something with him" or "Rebecca! We need you to make some phone calls to the producers!" And the producers hear your voice. They see that you are a great typist and from Emerson and they remember you. Not only that, but you're basically responsible for this movie getting made, being a big hit, and giving Brad Pitt 20 million dollars.
I want to rape whatever temp read the script to Troy.
ME: Does Brad Pitt even need 20 million dollars at this point?
TED: Well, that talk sounds like you definitely want to be an agent.
Oh my God. He wasn't joking.
ME: No…
TED: Rebecca, can I ask you a question?
ME: Sure.
TED: Do you think snipers just wake up one day and have all the skills that they need?
ME: What? I have no idea.
TED: Snipers need experience before they decide to work at becoming a talented and successful sniper.
ME: Uh… okay.
TED: So, if you really want to be a comedy writer you should work in an agency and then decide that you no longer want to be a comedy writer and you want to become an agent. It's the only way to break into the business.
ME: But, I don't want to be an agent. I want an agent.
TED: Rebecca! You're a feisty one. I like you. As the guy says in Mean Streets, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
ME: I don’t think that's-
TED: Nah, I heard enough from you. I'll put you down on the list and call you as soon as something opens up. Thanks, Rebecca!
***
I stood up and noticed he had an Annie Hall poster hanging in his office. I looked at Alvy.
You couldn't help me out here?
He was a man who had the looks of William H. Macy and the voice of Tim Gunn. He was once a top agent for film directors and for some reason he got demoted to being a temp agent for bums who just like watching films. Due to his work with high profile people, he will be known as Ted.
I could write loads about Ted's personality, but I think you'll be able to figure it out yourself as I now provide for you a transcription of what when down in this interview. The italics include the thoughts that went through my head that were never spoken.
***
TED: Well, you seem to be a good typist, know a lot of important software. Oh! I see you went to Emerson.
ME: Yup.
TED: We like Emersonians out here.
I never know what to say when people say that. Especially because I hate most Emersonians.
ME: Okay.
TED: So, tell me, Rebecca, what aspect of the entertainment industry do you see yourself working in?
ME: Well, I'm not sure, but something creative.
TED: What are your career goals?
ME: Well, right now I'm really interested in comedy. I think I want to be a comedy writer.
TED: You're not saying the magic words, Rebecca.
ME: Wha- I mean, excuse me?
TED: You're not saying the thing that you want to do in order to help your career.
Is he asking me to blow him?
ME: Okay… what should I be saying?
TED: That you want to work in an agency.
ME: Oh, I don't want to work in an agency. That I know.
TED: Yes, you do.
ME: What?
TED: Working in an agency is the best way to learn the inner-workings of the entertainment industry.
So is selling coke in the champagne room…
ME: Yeah, but I don't want to be an agent. It seems to me, and I could be wrong, that agencies really like to hire people who want to become agents.
TED: But you want to be an agent…
ME: No. I don't.
TED: You're open to being an agent...
ME: No. I want to be a comedy writer.
TED: Okay, okay. But what if you reach a point where you no longer want to be a comedy writer?
ME: I never really thought about it.
TED: So, you never really thought about NOT not being an agent.
ME: What? I guess so.
TED: Okay, great. I'm just going to jot down here that you're interested in being an agent.
ME: I’m not sure-
TED: Do you know how much power you would have working at an agency? Let's say you read a script that you need to do coverage on. And Brad Pitt's agent calls and says, "Rebecca! My client Brad Pitt needs a project, stat!" And you had just read a script that Brad would be great in! Brad's people read it. Brad accepts. Suddenly, people come to you saying, "Hey- hey Rebecca! Get Brad on the line we need to discuss something with him" or "Rebecca! We need you to make some phone calls to the producers!" And the producers hear your voice. They see that you are a great typist and from Emerson and they remember you. Not only that, but you're basically responsible for this movie getting made, being a big hit, and giving Brad Pitt 20 million dollars.
I want to rape whatever temp read the script to Troy.
ME: Does Brad Pitt even need 20 million dollars at this point?
TED: Well, that talk sounds like you definitely want to be an agent.
Oh my God. He wasn't joking.
ME: No…
TED: Rebecca, can I ask you a question?
ME: Sure.
TED: Do you think snipers just wake up one day and have all the skills that they need?
ME: What? I have no idea.
TED: Snipers need experience before they decide to work at becoming a talented and successful sniper.
ME: Uh… okay.
TED: So, if you really want to be a comedy writer you should work in an agency and then decide that you no longer want to be a comedy writer and you want to become an agent. It's the only way to break into the business.
ME: But, I don't want to be an agent. I want an agent.
TED: Rebecca! You're a feisty one. I like you. As the guy says in Mean Streets, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
ME: I don’t think that's-
TED: Nah, I heard enough from you. I'll put you down on the list and call you as soon as something opens up. Thanks, Rebecca!
***
I stood up and noticed he had an Annie Hall poster hanging in his office. I looked at Alvy.
You couldn't help me out here?
Monday, June 9, 2008
Chapter 11: The Temp Agency Part B
I'm like a temp whore. My name is registered with so many temp agencies all throughout the country, I feel like I’m the Jason Bourne of corporate-staffing America.
Every temp agency asks you to take exams on Microsoft Office and Excel. What they don’t know is that every temp agency gives you the same exam. So, if you get to see your errors from a previous test, you're golden by the time you take another one via pure memorization.
Needless to say, I aced those exams and performed my typing exam quite well with my eyes closed. (I was hungover, after all, and may have done some “wake and bake” action to subdue the nausea.) Most typing exams have the same text. ("Here at [insert name of Agency] is it always important to listen to your supervisor…")
I finished the exam and went back into the waiting room and sat next to another woman waiting. She was wearing an expensive pants suit, leather shoes, and reading Variety. As I concluded in my mind, "I never want to be like her", the man who would change my perspective on Hollywood entered.
"Rebecca?"
Every temp agency asks you to take exams on Microsoft Office and Excel. What they don’t know is that every temp agency gives you the same exam. So, if you get to see your errors from a previous test, you're golden by the time you take another one via pure memorization.
Needless to say, I aced those exams and performed my typing exam quite well with my eyes closed. (I was hungover, after all, and may have done some “wake and bake” action to subdue the nausea.) Most typing exams have the same text. ("Here at [insert name of Agency] is it always important to listen to your supervisor…")
I finished the exam and went back into the waiting room and sat next to another woman waiting. She was wearing an expensive pants suit, leather shoes, and reading Variety. As I concluded in my mind, "I never want to be like her", the man who would change my perspective on Hollywood entered.
"Rebecca?"
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Chapter 10: The Temp Agency Part A
I freaked out after I left the boss-man's company. I was semi-jobless again. I tried to see if I could ever survive on $1,400 a year with my other internet job. No dice according to the parental units.
I talked to a few people and googled here and there and found a temp agency that catered to entertainment companies. I sent my resume. I was startled to see that they had asked me to come in for an interview, not only because the writer's strike was in full-force, but because they addressed me as "Maria" in the email.
The day of my interview was the one day a year when the weather decides to go all New Jersey on us and give the "native" residents of Los Angeles a reminder of what a drizzle actually is.
Probably two drops of rain fell upon the entire city. However, that did not keep LA residents from leaving their houses and apartments completely prepared with galoshes, raincoats, umbrellas, and canoes.
Wearing a white shirt and velvet shoes, I entered the temp agency in a big building in West Hollywood. As I got off the elevator, I checked in with the receptionist who asked me, "How horrible is it out there?" By this point, the only precipitation outside was the piss coming out of a homeless man in the alley.
I talked to a few people and googled here and there and found a temp agency that catered to entertainment companies. I sent my resume. I was startled to see that they had asked me to come in for an interview, not only because the writer's strike was in full-force, but because they addressed me as "Maria" in the email.
The day of my interview was the one day a year when the weather decides to go all New Jersey on us and give the "native" residents of Los Angeles a reminder of what a drizzle actually is.
Probably two drops of rain fell upon the entire city. However, that did not keep LA residents from leaving their houses and apartments completely prepared with galoshes, raincoats, umbrellas, and canoes.
Wearing a white shirt and velvet shoes, I entered the temp agency in a big building in West Hollywood. As I got off the elevator, I checked in with the receptionist who asked me, "How horrible is it out there?" By this point, the only precipitation outside was the piss coming out of a homeless man in the alley.
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