Fabulist, not Fabulous


Oh LA. I have been here a little over a week, and for the most part it has been like a normal week in NYC (in that I have been working), but not like a normal week in NYC in that I have been catching up with lots of people I haven’t seen in a while. And in between the working and the catching up, while I am on my way somewhere or waiting for someone or working in some cafe, I have caught snippets of people’s conversations. And these snippets remind me of what it is like to not just be in LA, but to have absorbed and incorporated what it means to be Angeleno (and a part of The Industry). Consider:

(70-something, heavy set, in stained shorts, answering his cell in the supermarket) “Hi Sweetheart! What? Don’t you worry, Daddy is on it. No. No. I swear, really. Has Daddy ever lied to you? You got the audition. Daddy promises.”

(30-something, talking on his cell in convenience store while wandering the aisles in a much too tight suit)”…Babe, those headshots were insane! We gotta do something about your presentation. Those pics were insane, insane! I gotta run, in a meeting.”

(self-styled “alternative” filmmaker, at a coffee shop going on and on about how great he is) “…and we have this autistic kid, totally amazing and inappropriate, we are basing the whole thing on him and how uncomfortable he makes everyone around him, we are totally using him. That kid is a gold mine, we were lucky to find him, he is saving our shit on this project.”