Tuesday, March 25, 2008

How Can I Hold You When You Ain't Even Mine?

Agents called me yesterday afternoon, properly impressed with the big new draft of the TV pilot I sent them last Thursday. Which is a relief because I made some sweeping changes and it was a shitload of work.

At the 9-5 dayjob (for however long it lasts, all things considered), progress is measured in hours. Make it through the day, make it through the week. Doesn't matter. It's all about collecting that shitty (but regular) paycheck.

On the other hand, the entertainment career's progress is measured in drafts. However long it takes me to crank them out. A few weeks for a spec TV pilot. A month or two for a spec feature. A year for a new fucking play. The faster I am, the better. Because the pigs don't send you bills based on drafts. Rent's gotta get PAID, ya feel meh?

That said, there's a pronounced urgency to get the writing thing off the ground again. Because the ground may crumble into the sea at any moment.

Shifts overlap where I work. Overnight shift overlaps with day shift, day shift with night shift, etc. Each shift having its own unique cast of misfits.

In the mornings, I'm witness to the overnight's officially-recognized freakazoid...


Woman-1 is on the computer, wrestling with TurboTax. Woman-2 sits nearby, half-paying attention.

Awkward-Man stands by his cubicle, across the way. Looking on eagerly, like a dog ready to fetch a stick.

I just want to get it done already! I hate doing taxes, it's painful.

You'll feel a lot better when it's finished.

No one really enjoys doing it... e-except maybe Bill Murray in "Little Shop of Horrors"...

His interjection is met with suitably awkward silence. The people on this shift are clearly accustomed to these blurts from him and do not take the bait.

Awkward-Man forces the bait, in case they didn't hear him clearly enough:

Did, uh... did you see that...? "Little Shop of Horrors"?

Yeah, I saw it, but I don't remember Bill Murray in it...

Encouraged, Awkward-Man shuffles a few steps toward her cubicle:

Oh, he's got this scene in a dentist's office where he really enjoys getting hurt. It's very funny...

(as if talking to a child)


MECCA OF THE MOUSE: Disney's Hollywood Studios


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