What We Thought We Got Into the Biz For

The Premieres. Ahh, yes. It wasn't the fame and the fortune that drew me in, however, it was glamour of prancing down the red carpet hearing people scream my name for a photo at the premieres that made the biz a no brainer for me. Who knew that working in Hollywood for as long as I have that no one would yell to me for a picture time, upon my red carpet arrival. But I guess it's better that way...

I arrive. Parking about 7 blocks from the actual screening (in LA it may as well be a mile), hearing the sound of 3 inch siletoes endlessly on the pavement, and the sound or familiar strangers trying to make small talk with each other... I believe we call this smoozing. I take in the fresh but causal appeal surrounding me, making mental notes about cute outfit I will want to try at the next one.

Seeing faces I wish I never had to see again. They are the people who thought that I would disappear one day after treating me like total shit after I landed them their rising super star clients. Then starting a trend of not wanting to answer my calls, when I came to them asking for help with a job search. I guess I can be thankful that I landed on my feet, because the one trying to make conversation with me now... was just kicked at of the TV department at the agency. Demoted down to the media division. There is a brief silent "yay" from my inner childlike voice after I accidentally carried on and on about the status of one of those clients I helped him sign... and how fabulous his career is going. Oh then, I even said "thanks for making that such a great place for him to land. The agency really worked out for him."

With his tail between his legs, he replies, "yea, there wasn't any room for growth in scripted TV."

"Well, I'm sure that you'll love your time putting together those thou's, effectively's and all the other legal mumbo jumbo's in your new position outside of the spot light, while someone else looks out for that writer I practically signed for you. Yes, the one you kissed my ass for, promising me a bright new future for, oh and I will never forget the Laker's games you basically dragged me to in order for me to make cheerful banter with your client to be - because you never knew how.

But life is about lessons, and I am learning here. The one that came from that is that Hollywood is a battle ground. There are two types of people... your trenchmates, and well, the enemy. Most are enemies.

Of course, my girlfriends who hate playing the Hollywood game of who's cock is bigger, all insisted that I leave the boy alone. I mean one day I may be down and I would hate to see him kick me... even though he already had.

Oh right, my premiere. SEX DRIVE. Tracking is low. The movie may not hit 5 million, but of course we'll blame marketing. I mean they did insist that a man dressed in a donut costume was funny that an Amish rager featuring the music of none other than Fall Out Boy.

Chirp, Chirp. Sitting through the screening for the 17th time... I can't check my emails because my boss is sitting 3 seats over and HATES seeing the light go on and off. Reading is out of the question, it's dark. Sleeping, what if I snore or worse drool on the brand new dress I bought for this? The guy in the seat in front of me leans back, laying out almost in my lap. Now, I can't move either!

TWO HOURS LATER:

Through it all, we are all gathered here together, to release this film on 2453 screens. PARTY!

The child I have been raising is now going off to war... without a helmet.

Clark Duke, the raising star of the film... offers me a ciggie. I gladly except only because I have a thing for brilliant men... even if they aren't sexy (and perhaps even slightly fat), but I mean he is funny. Cough, Cough as I inhale a moment of what could actually close the deal. Looking away only briefly but apparently long enough for a skinny, model type to steal the show... suddenly, it's as if we barely even spoke. No love from the chubby dude I insisted was brilliant enough to play the suave Casanova role in the film.

Then, my once lover agent friend, who of course now covers my studio is staring intensely. "Who is he looking at?" I mean, I really think he forgot who I was after he cheated on me with Sam from WHO'S THE BOSS (but honestly who could blame him, isn't it every boys childhood dream). The fact of the matter is that we never actually dated anywhere other than inside my mind... but I always wanted to. Until moments later, when he makes his way to me and says... "B, can we grab drinks sometime really soon?" Another lesson, this is code for "you are actually pretty cute, let's grab a cocktail and if convo's not bad, then we'll have a meal together."

Two beers later, I am exhausted. Too much energy has spent defending my film, my reputation, and hell, my need for a little bit of attention...

Why did I get into this business again? Oh yea, for the art of story telling!