June 13th, 2013
Today was one of those days where I had to wake up at 5am.
I don’t particularly mind it. It reminds me of my celebrity laced barista days when I had to be AT work by 5:30am.
Besides, I got to be a background extra today.
I have mixed feelings about this. It was a great gig because I worked for 2 hours and made $60 (for those of you bad at math, that’s $30 per hour), but it was terrible because it brings up my old childhood dream of wanting to be a star (Hey, I was Annie in “Annie” in the 8th grade play).
It’s not like I got offered a part in a big movie because I got to eat yogurt on the boardwalk in the rain for $30 dollars an hour, but shit. You can’t beat working for two hours and being able to get 20 bottles of Trader Joe’s wine after wards.
After I was done saying things like “creamy” and “refreshing” to a camera with Tim Gunn standing 25 feet in the background (the second time our paths would cross in 2013) I went home and took a nap.
Then it was time to go meet a guy I’d been corresponding with via email about being a production assistant on his film.
I probably should have not corresponded with a man who signed every email with the name “Stingray”, but I thought, what’s the worst that could happen?
Or relatively smart, at least, so I got the address of the place for my interview, suited-up,
And headed towards the address in Greenwich village.
On my walk from the subway I passed a lot of things from my childhood. There was the place that didn’t ID when I bought clove cigarettes or one hitters from them.
There was the tattoo shop where I got my first underage tattoo. It was the same tattoo shop that had said “oops” when piercing my cartilage (they slipped). It had recently been shut down.
Then there was the gay bars I had been to over the years. Then it was very, very residential….
Convinced I was in the wrong place, I checked my email for the address…
That’s when I saw it.
“When you get here, just ring the buzzer for apartment 2B.”
Unfortunately, I saw that email and was three apartments down, so I kept walking darted around the corner, and safely hid.
I quickly tweeted the situation.
Because I didn’t want to worry my boyfriend and figured on of my 550 twitter followers would save me. Or at least be able to say “Oh yeah, I saw that tweet. What a shame.”
After tweeting, I replied to the email almost literally saying: “I’m sorry, I can’t meet you in an apartment. I can meet you at a cafe or outside, but I refuse to be a LifeTime movie.”
Stingray said that it was fine and he would meet me outside and that he totally understood….
Which I found odd, but whatever. One person on Twitter knew where I was and that I might be murdered… so I would probably be ok.
I walk back and find a cool looking 1990’s chick waiting in the doorway.
It was a girl.
I immediately tweeted that I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to die and talked to her. The group was from LA, the movie was going to be big, they wanted everyone to work for free. I said I couldn’t really, but I could help with research and location scouting if they needed. I also offered up an idea for where they could film.
Keep in mind that this was all after I said “Oh my god. Thank god you’re a girl. Stingray… I just assumed would be some big hill billy from CMT or something. Thank god.” which probably wasn’t the best first impression.
Stingray said they’d love the help, we shook hands, and I left, so happy to be alive and not a LifeTime movie.