There are several different sides to LA. Here's one, and it's the one you've heard the most about:
On Saturday, I worked my first entertainment industry party. This is a world I just don't understand. I usually consider it unfortunate that 49 out of 50 catering workers in LA are industry wanna-be's, but this time it worked to my favor. I asked one woman I've worked with many times before, and like (even though she's an actor), what the deal was with the fake storefronts lining the area of this outdoor party: they were several feet deep with real merchandise, but the back wall was always a photo. They seemed to small to be sets. She told me the whole *street* was a set. Oh!
Later, another one of my fellow waiters told me he'd been "out shooting in San Pedro earlier today." I replied, "Shooting what?" Skeet? Was he hunting? "Shooting FILM." Oh again!
Those two coworkers are cordial enough, but here's an example of why I don't like actors in general. One of them bitched to me about the catering biz, and I replied that I've given myself one more year to get out of it. He said, "You poor girl. Just go back to Iowa or wherever now if you think you can get out of this." I told him I'm not an actor, and his tune changed: "Then you might actually be able to get out of this business. You're not cursed with talent."
My response: "I have other talents, and I don't feel like I need to do them for a living."
Not cursed with talent. Yeesh. And so, so many of them have that attitude. "I *have* to act, I can't *not* do my art." I'm sure there are plenty of talented people who aren't middle class and able to choose relative poverty, knowing they can always go back to mommy and daddy...and what they *have* to do is work regular hours to pay bills. Even I know temping is a luxury in its own way. "Actors" have a level of pretentiousness to rival Boston's most uppity academics, except instead of crowing about how smart they are, they're always on about how they're slaves to their craft. Sorry, kids, the way I see it you're slaves to the hospitality industry!
Anyway, it was the 50th birthday party for this guy who has a very healthy ego, shall we say, and also deposited a used hors d'oeuvre toothpick on a tray full of food. (He wasn't the only one, either. You can't buy table manners). There were "famous" people there, someone pointed out the president of the WB (ooh! whatever) but waiting on rich people is waiting on rich people. The only difference is the red carpet.
This was an outdoor party, by the way, and it rained. All the fully set tables had to be moved under the shelter of tents. The aforementioned red carpet pitched to the center on both sides, so it not only got soggy but collected a giant scummy puddle right down the middle. The red carpet with the pile of dirty muck in the middle. If that's not an LA metaphor, I don't know what is.
On Saturday, I worked my first entertainment industry party. This is a world I just don't understand. I usually consider it unfortunate that 49 out of 50 catering workers in LA are industry wanna-be's, but this time it worked to my favor. I asked one woman I've worked with many times before, and like (even though she's an actor), what the deal was with the fake storefronts lining the area of this outdoor party: they were several feet deep with real merchandise, but the back wall was always a photo. They seemed to small to be sets. She told me the whole *street* was a set. Oh!
Later, another one of my fellow waiters told me he'd been "out shooting in San Pedro earlier today." I replied, "Shooting what?" Skeet? Was he hunting? "Shooting FILM." Oh again!
Those two coworkers are cordial enough, but here's an example of why I don't like actors in general. One of them bitched to me about the catering biz, and I replied that I've given myself one more year to get out of it. He said, "You poor girl. Just go back to Iowa or wherever now if you think you can get out of this." I told him I'm not an actor, and his tune changed: "Then you might actually be able to get out of this business. You're not cursed with talent."
My response: "I have other talents, and I don't feel like I need to do them for a living."
Not cursed with talent. Yeesh. And so, so many of them have that attitude. "I *have* to act, I can't *not* do my art." I'm sure there are plenty of talented people who aren't middle class and able to choose relative poverty, knowing they can always go back to mommy and daddy...and what they *have* to do is work regular hours to pay bills. Even I know temping is a luxury in its own way. "Actors" have a level of pretentiousness to rival Boston's most uppity academics, except instead of crowing about how smart they are, they're always on about how they're slaves to their craft. Sorry, kids, the way I see it you're slaves to the hospitality industry!
Anyway, it was the 50th birthday party for this guy who has a very healthy ego, shall we say, and also deposited a used hors d'oeuvre toothpick on a tray full of food. (He wasn't the only one, either. You can't buy table manners). There were "famous" people there, someone pointed out the president of the WB (ooh! whatever) but waiting on rich people is waiting on rich people. The only difference is the red carpet.
This was an outdoor party, by the way, and it rained. All the fully set tables had to be moved under the shelter of tents. The aforementioned red carpet pitched to the center on both sides, so it not only got soggy but collected a giant scummy puddle right down the middle. The red carpet with the pile of dirty muck in the middle. If that's not an LA metaphor, I don't know what is.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<$I18N$LinksToThisPost>:
Create a Link
<< Home