Notes from the Upper West Side. A novel by Dan Wrench. Chapter 42. The egalitarian card.
I pulled it off. It was great. I really got into the whole egalitarian thing like, hey Mike, don't want to lug that yourself. Let Uncle Paul eat through it for ya.
There ya go. I was a funcular. That's the word. Like at lunch.
The lunch break. Film tarts don't like it when people split for lunch even in the middle of Manhattan where there's an assload of restaurants right near everything and nobody has to drive anywhere. When you back is too chancy and their damn schedule is sacred so they usually have food brought in. Kurt Libby said that when he worked on what a Parks and Movies a few years ago, Park made the cast and crew go out to eat at the exact same restaurant, the block from the set and they all marched there and back like a dam parade every day.
At Fighters this was a lot simpler since Fighters is a club and they served food anyway and even though it was closed that afternoon for the shoot and all the tables were shoved up against one wall, Fighter opened up the kitchen and the chef came in and cracked wise while he cooked. But here's what I did getting back to the point of me being appreciated from my awesome regularness. One of sitting on the floor along the wall with the masters and creators which I definitely could have done being I'm a producer and I know all of them from way back. I sat on the floor along the opposite wall with the crew tards except for the half dozen or so crew tards who sat with the masters and creators.
The traitors. I don't think I've ever been cooler. They talked about the nicks I joined in. They told stupid jokes.
I guffawed with my mouth open. I laughed with them, not at them. I went out of my way to tell this niffly chick with zits like tits that I thought she had a really good point. And when it sounded a lot like I was criticizing Part I made sure I finished up by saying you know he has a point of you too and hey he's great don't you think?
What a great guy. I took a mouth full of spaghetti after saying that. Oh yeah I was eating spaghetti and I could sense them inching closer to me mentally. It was like I was this hip uncle who had taken them in after their swear parents got killed in a car accident.
Even Cammy who had been staring at me from the buffet table came over and sat next to me after telling the bearded boom operator to scooch over. It was right then that I started noticing it was a really great day and I thought it better be for the butts I'm kicking in to be here. Then fighter came up to me and said Paul talked to Bobby about the next shot. He went at me and walked into some back room.
Alright I'm thinking me on camera but it turns out whispers had other plans or maybe fighter wasn't specific when he told Bobby to deal with I get to be in the next shot because a few minutes later we were shooting again and I was standing just off camera holding a big piece of white cardboard next to Lenny Payne's face to reflect light into the shadows made by the bags under his eyes. At first I was miffed and felt all back and I but it turned out it really didn't matter. Cammy stood behind me during the shot and squeezed my butt cheek once while the camera was rolling. On the next break we made the date.
Yeah not that night but a definite date for Saturday night when we were all rested up and could ram like Ben Her boats. I did not. Gig Cackle. And we all broke for home without big crap Cynthia showing up.
A great day. Notes from the Upper West Side is a work of fiction. The people depicted in this work do not exist. Notes from the Upper West Side copyright 2013 to 2016 by Dan Wrench.