Fugi para não cometer os mesmos erros
Fui embora sem saber
Nao fiz malas, não me despedi da família
Não olhei para trás desavidada de que não voltava mais
Fiz o melhor para mim sem intenção
Foram anos e anos de força de hábitos
De vida automatizada seguindo caminho que se escreve sozinho
Anos de planos de infância se concretizando
e de manias antigas fincando na pele
Anos de amores insólitos, amizades para vida e realidade dourada
Vida de certezas e segurança
Toalha de seda com franja de algodão
Deixei tudo para trás
Sai sorrateira, quietinha
Vazia de sonhos
Disse tchau sem saber que era Adeus
Até hoje não sei explicar direito como a decisão de não voltar se concretizou
Não sei se foi amor cego
Intenso que quase tortura
Ou sabedoria intrínsica que não se explica quando chega
Não sei como vim parar aqui
Sozinha
Sou tão diferente
Todo dia me aprendendo
Descobrindo esse Eu novo que floresceu
Sou resquício de deslumbre e retrato de garra
Vida aqui é de guerra
Salva-se quem puder
Toalha de algodão com franjinha de seda
Mas mudei para melhor
Olho para trás e acho que a essa altura do compeonato eu estaria cercada de armadilhas que montei pelos anos sem perceber
Vinda do berço de ouro que eu sinto que eu tive
Vivendo a vida em torno de romances
Acomodada com a certeza das minhas possibilidades
Euzona, lá sentada no trono que construi para mim
Hoje vivo em terra da provação
Todo dia é desafio, é sufoco
Correria e insegurança
Mundo estrangeiro
E nesse exato momentp, mais do que nunca estranho
Mas foi minha escolha, e é.
Virou
Agora tomo conta de mim
Construo futuro com suor e lágrima
Choro de saudade
Mas gargalho com a perspectiva de futuro em andamento
Hoje foi um dia difícil
e aqui tô eu
Fragilizada com a minha solidão
E com a batalha diária para provar à que vim
Dia em que quase esqueço
Que na maioria dos outros eu sempre encontro jeito de cantarolar
Dia nublado, assombrado
Quando fico triste assim me convenço de que vale a pena
Reforço cada conquista em minha cabecinha de beija-flor
E prometo para mim que vai ficar tudo bem.
Vai, não vai?
Friday, April 13, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
Small Talk
God, I hate small talk with all my heart. All the "hi-how-are-you-fine-thank-you"...Just to think about all the breath wasted on these senseless petty conversations, I'm speechless.
We all know how the weather has been crazy and Bush is unanimously hated; We all think that the elevator is taking too long, and the gas prices have been up in the sky. Still, is it really that awkward to be in silence with your own thoughts when around people that you don't relate to? Is it polite or actually hypocrite to start small talk just because you can't deal with your own emptiness?
I hate all the meaninglessly "good-mornings", "talk-to-you-later", "good-to-see-you" flushed out of dry mouths. I hate when tricked by distraction I catch myself mimicking some kind of that same shallow convention. Human and it's social codes.
I understand that since we're sharing the same planet, we should try our best to interact as amicably as possible. Personally though, I do not see myself as affected by a "good morning, Mam. Thanks for choosing Ralph's" as much as I am affected by the security guy outside that just gives me a good old genuine smile and a head nod. Actions speak more than a thousand words.
If you don't care about the answer, don't ask. If you don't mean it, don't say it.
Nothing worst than running into someone that you haven't seen in a while and you don't really have anything to share but random remarks.
" - Wow, I haven't seen you in so long.
- God, is it you? You look amazing.
- Oh, come on. You look great yourself.
- Thank you, isn't it crazy how the time goes by?
- Don't even go there.
- How have you been?
- Great, and you?
- Fine, everything really good, thanks.
- How is the family?
- Doing very well. Yours?
- Everything fantastic, thank you.
- What have you been up to?
- Not much, same old.
- Me too, still same thing since last time we've seen each other.
- Still leaving at the same place?
- Yes, you?
- No, I moved. It's a long story...
- We need to catch up sometime.
- Totally, lets keep in touch.
- Ok, lets do it.
- Well, good to see you.
- Pleasure seeing you, send my love to your family.
- Will do, and please do the same.
- Hope to see you again soon, girl.
- Me too. Bye now, have a good evening.
- You too, be well."
Come oooooooooooon, you're killing me.
Since you're not really into saying anything and you know the lack of interest is reciprocate, why not just nodding, maybe waving from far and moving on with your life without such a fake display of care. The sad part is that this is actually the kind of conversations we most have on daily basis. How many work calls and random people you have to formally encounter and bullshit for at least a bit to be polite(?) every day?
I hate formality.
Today I was reading this NY Times article about laughter. It claims that it has barely ever anything to do with an intellectual response to something, but a way to display a friendly approval:
"It’s an instinctual survival tool for social animals, not an intellectual response to wit...The brain has ancient wiring to produce laughter so that young animals learn to play with one another. The laughter stimulates euphoria circuits in the brain and also reassures the other animals that they’re playing, not fighting...Primal laughter evolved as a signaling device to highlight readiness for friendly interaction,”
So It's an animal social code with the desperate goal of fitting into a exclusive society. It's a ritual to show acceptance and to be accepted. The lower your status in the hierarchy the more you have to laugh your way up to the top. Pretty much, laugh at the boss's stupid joke and you'll have a better chance of being promoted.
You know, that shot of reality got me really depressed. So all the times I had the best laughter in the world it was mostly because during my early ages I was taught that laughter would buy my way into this world, and not because i was genuinely entertained? I refuse to think that I laugh to, somehow, manipulate the way people see me, instead of being a consequence of something funny.
Fuck it! I now make a vow to only laugh if it unexpectedly pops out of my mouth; To only ask "how-are-you" when I really care about the answer; to only comment on the weather when there is really something to say about it.
Enough FDA (Fake Displays of Affection) for ones life.
Oops, sorry, my boss just came in, had to slip a fake laugh so he wouldn't read into my anger
We all know how the weather has been crazy and Bush is unanimously hated; We all think that the elevator is taking too long, and the gas prices have been up in the sky. Still, is it really that awkward to be in silence with your own thoughts when around people that you don't relate to? Is it polite or actually hypocrite to start small talk just because you can't deal with your own emptiness?
I hate all the meaninglessly "good-mornings", "talk-to-you-later", "good-to-see-you" flushed out of dry mouths. I hate when tricked by distraction I catch myself mimicking some kind of that same shallow convention. Human and it's social codes.
I understand that since we're sharing the same planet, we should try our best to interact as amicably as possible. Personally though, I do not see myself as affected by a "good morning, Mam. Thanks for choosing Ralph's" as much as I am affected by the security guy outside that just gives me a good old genuine smile and a head nod. Actions speak more than a thousand words.
If you don't care about the answer, don't ask. If you don't mean it, don't say it.
Nothing worst than running into someone that you haven't seen in a while and you don't really have anything to share but random remarks.
" - Wow, I haven't seen you in so long.
- God, is it you? You look amazing.
- Oh, come on. You look great yourself.
- Thank you, isn't it crazy how the time goes by?
- Don't even go there.
- How have you been?
- Great, and you?
- Fine, everything really good, thanks.
- How is the family?
- Doing very well. Yours?
- Everything fantastic, thank you.
- What have you been up to?
- Not much, same old.
- Me too, still same thing since last time we've seen each other.
- Still leaving at the same place?
- Yes, you?
- No, I moved. It's a long story...
- We need to catch up sometime.
- Totally, lets keep in touch.
- Ok, lets do it.
- Well, good to see you.
- Pleasure seeing you, send my love to your family.
- Will do, and please do the same.
- Hope to see you again soon, girl.
- Me too. Bye now, have a good evening.
- You too, be well."
Come oooooooooooon, you're killing me.
Since you're not really into saying anything and you know the lack of interest is reciprocate, why not just nodding, maybe waving from far and moving on with your life without such a fake display of care. The sad part is that this is actually the kind of conversations we most have on daily basis. How many work calls and random people you have to formally encounter and bullshit for at least a bit to be polite(?) every day?
I hate formality.
Today I was reading this NY Times article about laughter. It claims that it has barely ever anything to do with an intellectual response to something, but a way to display a friendly approval:
"It’s an instinctual survival tool for social animals, not an intellectual response to wit...The brain has ancient wiring to produce laughter so that young animals learn to play with one another. The laughter stimulates euphoria circuits in the brain and also reassures the other animals that they’re playing, not fighting...Primal laughter evolved as a signaling device to highlight readiness for friendly interaction,”
So It's an animal social code with the desperate goal of fitting into a exclusive society. It's a ritual to show acceptance and to be accepted. The lower your status in the hierarchy the more you have to laugh your way up to the top. Pretty much, laugh at the boss's stupid joke and you'll have a better chance of being promoted.
You know, that shot of reality got me really depressed. So all the times I had the best laughter in the world it was mostly because during my early ages I was taught that laughter would buy my way into this world, and not because i was genuinely entertained? I refuse to think that I laugh to, somehow, manipulate the way people see me, instead of being a consequence of something funny.
Fuck it! I now make a vow to only laugh if it unexpectedly pops out of my mouth; To only ask "how-are-you" when I really care about the answer; to only comment on the weather when there is really something to say about it.
Enough FDA (Fake Displays of Affection) for ones life.
Oops, sorry, my boss just came in, had to slip a fake laugh so he wouldn't read into my anger
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Set Stuff (work in progress - far from done)
She looked at the map completely confused. New town, new job, foreign language…Man, she was lost. In a mix of fear and excitement she fed thoughts of insecurity and rejection. It was just so new and so far from the last couple of years of random jobs and random people in her new instable life abroad.
The call sheet, time card, however they called that paper in her hands was full of unheard names and titles completely alien to her eyes.
She was curious. She wanted to see the circus working.
She wondered how to dress appropriately for her position, her jeans all seemed too fitting; would a tank top be ok?; Pockets probably would be useful; is the snicker sole thick enough?.
There were just so many questions and with them the fear of no one willing to answer them.
It took her four months going through Craigslist positions and fake resumes, sending over 20 e-mails a day trying to get a intern position on a set and zero responses. Eventually, she finally met some no one that trying to impress her mentioned the PA position. She took it seriously.
Four days later there it was the map and callsheet for the next day shooting. 5am call on New York Street at the Paramount Studios. It all just sounded so glamorous, imagine, her first shoot was already on a historic studio. The place where many of the movies she watched as a youngster with Portuguese subtitles and “hollywooden” images it was now suddenly part of her first day at the office. She felt privileged.
She didn’t sleep her best that night. She kept waking up every forty minutes thinking it was already time to shower. When time had finally come, she jumped out of bed and run into the water enjoying the little yellow and blue butterflies flying in her stomach, she liked it.
Even though she had studied the map the night before it mysteriously looked more complicated at 4:30 in the morning. It was still so dark and all she could think was how cool it would be to be pulled over and be able to say that she was actually going to work even though it was the wee hours. She felt strong and secure and immediately nervous and fearful after… And that’s when she got lost.
It seemed so easy, but somehow she managed to screw it up with a simple wrong left turn. All the streets looked completely new, she had never been in that part of town before. Her heart almost popped out of her mouth on a hiccup, she couldn’t believe she was lost and imminently late for her first day. She felt her stomach groaning, how the fuck could she be hungry at that time in the morning. Yeah, she was definitely lost. She couldn’t drive any longer into nowhere, she had to stop and take a look at her borrowed old ass Thomas Guide. Coffee suddenly sounded great, well, too much to even think about looking for a Starbucks on top of everything. Fuck it, she suddenly stopped in a random corner without blinking her right light. It was already 4:45. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she had to find it. She shuffled the map looking for the right part of the town. She couldn’t be late for her first day, that would really be a big fuck up. He told her he was giving her this chance but she couldn’t disappoint him, he said it twice. I mean, especially her, all her watches were 27 minutes ahead, she was always so particular about being punctual. I know, she was just “unique” like that, so to speak. Thomas Guide under the car center light really wasn’t that helpful. She thought she figured out, she got back in the road. The closer to the location the more her hiccups would gag into each other. She was panicking a little and there they were the yellow signs. Her friend told her about them. When closer to location they would start guiding the lost early birds, or the lazy ones. There they were flashing food/work/fear/strangers/challenge AAAAAAhhhhhhh.
The security guard directed her to a specific parking spot. She turned of the engine, looked around, saw a line already forming by a catering truck. There was a long path of normal-sized and humongous trucks by the sidewalk being downloaded by mostly man. It was too early for faces. She simply had no idea where to go. She took a deep sigh and stepped out of the car. There she was, at fake New York Street, with all the mail boxes, fire extinguishers and trash cans Props just like the real ones. For the first time she could see that most of the “Soho” buildings were shallow. She started walking up the street through Upper East Side and It’s posh three stories building, so charming. She was stunned and stoked. Deal with it or deal with it. She walked to a truck and asked where to find Steve. He walked behind her and gave her a hug. She shrugged. She pulled him aside.
- You got to tell me, someone will explain me what to do, right? I mean, I really have no idea where to go.
- Calm down, you’ll be ok. There is no mystery and no special skills but being aware of what’s been said on the Walkie at all times and make yourself as much available as you can. Watch and learn, girl. Good luck, haha.
- No, hold on, that’s it? Ok, my Walkie he said, my Walkie…Where the fuck do I get a walkie?
He turns around and points the Production Cube from far. She walks to the four guys standing by a desk in front of the truck. They are labeling radios. She sees someone coming and asking for a Radio. She waits and walks in. She introduces herself, they asked her name twice. They laugh and make a joke that she is too nervous to understand. She gives them a yellow smile and asks for a Radio - foreign object one more time. They hand her one with her name spelled completely wrong. Which button is what? Channels, headsets, radio terms??? Ok, she was going to be ok.
She walked to the catering truck line and stood quiet listening to two rough looking guys complaining. She wondered how old all that routine felt to them.
Breakfast was amazing. She couldn’t get over the fact that she could order whatever she wanted, I mean, from pancakes, to sandwiches, burritos, eggs any style you could put together, all for free, I mean, and no one told her anything about that.
The day was looking good. She sat on a table where four other guys were sitting.
- Is anyone sitting here?
- You – they all say simultaneously
- Thanks.
- What do you do here, honey.
She swallow the “honey” a little dry. Ok, she’s getting how it works.
- I’m a PA.
- I bet you are.
Someone says something on the Radio, she uses it as a “Q” to run away from that table. She finishes her egg-whites omelet standing up behind the production truck. Everyone is running around. The overly ripe bald guy, with a beer gut and a face of yesterday was Hank the key PA, she overheard. He’s downloading stuff from the truck, she asks to help and he just starts handing her stuff without even looking at her. She felt she wasn’t that welcome. A lot of chairs, tables, fans, boards, small generators and trash cans sit outside the truck by the driveway. It takes them about 25 minutes.
- So where do we take this stuff to?
- Is it you first day Sheka?
- Well, my name is Chica, and yes, it is my first day.
- Oh great...
She stands quiet.
- It’s gonna be a long day.
- I’m a fast learner.
- They all say that.
She gets quietly embarrassed, she doesn’t want to be a burden, but I mean, everyone starts somewhere, right? She started getting really nervous and insecure. Someone touched her arm.
- Hi there, I’m Patrick.
- Hey, I’m Chica. Sorry for being unexperienced. - He pulls her aside.
- Oh no, sorry about Hank. With time you’ll be able to tell right away the grumpy burnt out PAs, he’s been doing this for way too long.
- Why he haven’t moved up.
- Exaaactly! It’s a long story, you’ll see. So, I overheard it’s your first day. I can help you if you’d like.
- Are you serious? Oh God! Pleeease, I mean, you can totally tell me to shut up if I ask too many questions. Thank you so much Patrick.
- No worries.
- Where do we start?
- Well, first thing we do in the morning is talk to the 1st AD about where does he want to set up Village, Crafty and director’s monitor.
- 1st AD?
- Yeah, Assistant of the Director, he overlooks the whole set and it's pretty much the one we most respond to.
- K. – She had no idea what a 1st AD job breaks down to, but anyway.
She follows him around. He stops by this “buttoned shirt” tall guy that smells authority.
- Hey Scott, good to see you man.
- Patrick my friend, I’m glad you’re here. I know whom to go to if I need anything. At least one solid PA on set.
- Yes, you do, my man. Yes, you do. So, what’s scoop? Where is the first shot?
- We’ll be doing a tight on the hero-guy over the hero-girl shoulder. Camera will be by the north-east corner of the intersection on the tecno-crane.
"Ok, hero-guy, hero-girl…tight over the shoulder, tecno-crane, I’ll get it, it’s ok."
- So camera will be looking this way. Director’s monitor will be right here and village by the flower shop. We got to make sure we put them as far as possible from Enda. He hates agency people. I don’t want either village either monitor to get too comfortable, so keep it minimal because we’re moving around the whole day.
Wow, he was definitely speaking German. Scott says yes to something on the Radio that she didn’t have focus enough to hear. Nothing made sense to her, she felt really dumb.
- And you are…?
- Hi, sorry about that, I’m Chica. It’s my first day, but I’ll try my best to be here for you.
- Uh, a fresh rookie hun, fun! Welcome to the circus. I’ll be nice to you. Don’t worry.
- Thank you, Scott. – She felt shy like never before.
Patrick starts walking. She follows him.
- We need 4 talls, 4 shorts director’s chairs for village and three talls for directors monitor. Oh, by the way, Village is where the Ad Agency and the client sit and watch the footage that is being shot through a VTR monitor. Director’s monitor always has the director plus script supervisor and sometimes producer sitting by it. With that we should also stage by it, trashcans, butt-cans, and sometimes a table for agency if we decide to be nice. Since they’ll be outside, we should also put a pop-up for the bastards, before they request one.
“The bastards” were obviously Agency and client. She had a hard time seeing them that way since her Major was creative direction. If she was in Brazil, she would be sitting by village now, but she wasn’t.
They hurried to the truck, got part of the stuff they need and headed back to set.
They would need a couple of trips back and forth
- Morning and wrapping are the tough times. – He said unwrapping chairs - That’s when you really need to bust your ass to get things done, it gets a lot easier once everything is set up
- How many PAs do we have today?
- Don’t know, probably 6 or 7, but you’ll soon learn that for every 5 PAs’ crew maybe 3 will be really working.
- Oh, that’s exciting.
- Isn’t it? Well, that’s the thing about PAing, you decide how hard of a worker you want to be. I mean, just like any job right, you choose how you portrait yourself.
- Wise words, my friend. You don’t understand how glad I am that you’re here.
- Don’t get too excited. I may slack through out the day. You just got me on a good mood. Besides, come on, you’re not only cute but also Brazilian, I’ll be dumb not to ally to you.
- Oh, ok. Thanks anyway – That sounded sleazy, She knew that’d be a trade, good luck my friend. Anyhow, She had to make the best of it.
They set up the chairs. She watches his motions and mimics everything he does. He is quick and the equipment is heavy. She doesn’t want to seem fragile. She carries as much stuff as he does.
The sun is finally starting to come out. Faces are now more seenable. Jesus, there is a lot of people for one simple commercial. New York Street looks even more glamorous with the sun shining on the windows and all the equipment that is now set on the street. She took a second to stare at that new world. She felt important. She wanted to call family and friends and scream her excitement away.
- “Any available PA?” - Her Radio yelled.
She pressed every button – “I’m available, I’m available” –
- “Anyone copy me? Come on guys, I need an available PA on set” - Patrick showed the right button to hold.
- Hold it for a second and then start speaking as clearly as you can.
- K, thanks. – She pushes the button trembling- I’m available, where do you need me?
- Let me guess, is this Chica, isn’t it? – It had to be Scott.
- Yes, sir.
- Ok, girl, come see me on set.
- Say “10-4” – Patrick said smiling.
- “10-4” – she says on the radio proudly.
She runs to set shaking and stops aside Scott that is currently speaking with someone. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge her. He keeps his conversation going. She doesn’t know if she should show herself to him or simply wait. How urgent was the request. How should she approach this matter?
“Any available PAs” – Her radio is shouting again,. Hold on, so someone else can ask for PAs besides the 1st AD, ok, ok. But is she available or should she wait until she’s able to finally speak with Scott? She stresses for a second. He sees her desperation.
- Go ahead, you can answer that. All I need is a putt-putt for Crafty. You can get it after you answer this on going request.
- Ok – Putt-putt, great! Whatever that means - she presses the radio button - "Chica is available, where do you need me?”
- “Come see me at Production”
“See me” who? Do these people ever use names? And “see me at production…”, so should I know where is production. She Runs to the production truck still thinking about the freaking putt-putt. "I can’t forget it, I can’t forget it."
- Anyone called for a PA in Production?
- Yeah – Hank says – at PRODUCTION though.
- Yeah, so here I am.
- Production means PRO-DUC-TION, where the PM and coordinator stay.
She looks at him blankly.
- Oh, wow! Jesus Christ, Fucking rookies, man!
She starts to blush.
- See that MoHo there, that big fucking brown trailer. – He points at an RV – That’s also known as production Motor Home, sweetheart. Aka MOHO! Get it?
- Oh, ok, thank you very much.
She runs away fuming, wanting to punch his face, She hasn’t felt that dumb in a long long time. She has no time to over-react.
She knocks on the MoHo door before walking in. She overhears “Who the hell is knocking? That’s hilarious!”. She walks in head down. There are about six people inside that seemed like they stopped their actions to stare at her. She mumbles:
- Did anyone ask for an available PA?
- I’m sorry, Honey, speak out please. – A well dressed girl says.
- Come on, Andrea. Be nice. What do you need, Chica? – Steve says.
- Someone asked for an available PA on the Radio a little bit ago.
- Not me. – Andrea, the bitch sitting by the counter with a computer staring at her says.
- Me either – Steve smiles
She looks lost. Who the hell asked for a PA here?
- Chica, it’s always good to know whom you’re speaking with on the Radio, you know. It’s ok to ask.
- Yeah, I guess I’m learning the hard way. – She said shamefully.
- Go back to whatever you were doing prior. Don’t worry.
Oh, really? Ok, I guess following up is not a big deal, off to the putt-putt. She jumps out of the MoHo thinking about the putt-putt. Where the hell is Patrick???
- “Where the hell is the PA that was meeting me at production?” - Her Radio shouts.
- I’m running back to the MoHo, sir. Whom am I speaking with, please?
- “This is Ethan, 2nd AD. No need to meet me just go to two, please.”
“Go to two????” Holy crap, what does that mean???
- “Hello, anyone there? Can you go to two, please?” – The Radio is going off.
- No problem Ethan, but how do I do that? – She says scared as hell of the answer.
- “Excuse me? What do you mean how do you go to two? Who is that?”
- “Hey Ethan. Patrick here, sorry about that, we have a rookie PA on set today. What do you need?”
Someone makes sure a loud laughter is well heard through the Radio. Mother fucker! Great! Now EVERYONE knows I’m fucking it up. She knew Patrick would come to save the day, but she was just embarrassed and overwhelmed with her performance. She missed whatever Ethan said he needed. She was pretty sure Patrick would handle it without her “great’ help at that point. She sighed.
Oh, no. She had to figure out the “putt-putt to crafty” situation. How exciting to deal with Hank again… She runs to the truck when someone yells:
- Pace yourself, crazy girl.
“Pace myself? What is this random whoever talking about? "I wish you were on my skin, jackass.” She sees Hank sitting on the truck gate calmly smoking a cigarette. She wonders why he isn’t as busy as she is.
- Oh, great. Here she comes. What do you need now?
- A putt-putt for crafty – She shyly says expecting him to come with the solution.
He stands up apparently bothered that she interrupted his quiet cigarette. He goes to the back of the truck and gets a red piece of equipment that looks like a small generator. She is intimidated by the old man, well, he was probably aroound forty but he certainly acted like an bitter old man.
- And yes, this is a putt-putt. – He hands it to her with no more words.
Ok, ok, now all I got to do is find out what is crafty. She runs around looking for Patrick, the putt-putt is kind of heavy and she looks around seeking some kind of “Q”.
- Is this genny for crafty? – Someone says.
- Yes, yes it is. – She smiles relieved
- Oh, you can drop it right here. I was wondering if you guys forgot it. What’s your name?
- I’m Chica, sorry for taking so lo…
- Girl, don’t even worry about it. It’s here now, isn’t it? I’m Karl by the way. Nice to meet you, darling. – He started going through a bunch of boxes obviously too busy for any more chatting.
Ok. What’s next now? She started heading back to set with the hope of finding Patrick. She needed a breather.
- Hey, are you a PA? – A dark haired chubby man pulled her away.
- Yes, sir.
- I’m Ethan, 2nd AD. What’s your name?
- Nice meeting you, I’m Chica.
- Oh, you are the rookie.
- Yes, sir.
- Don’t be so uptight, Sheka. You can call me Ethan.
- Ok.
- Hey, can you get breakfast orders from my talent, please?
- Sure, Ethan.
- Do you know how to do it?
- Not really, but I’ll figure out. – She starts walking away to “figure out”.
- Hold on, hold on. It’s ok. Breath, I’ll explain to you.
- Oh, thank you. That’s very kin…
- Anyway, go to that yellow MoHo there. That’s where Talent will be staying today. Just go around and ask what would they like for breakfast, make sure you write it down who order what, ok?
- Ok, ok. - She starts walking away thinking about the pen and piece of paper that she doesn’t have. Where can I get that? Is it ok to ask for it at production?
- Oh, and hey Sheka, - Ethan shouts - don’t fuck it up.
"Thanks, that really doesn’t adds up any pressure to everything that I already have on my mind." She runs to production and enters the MoHo without knocking this time. She goes to Steve and asks as quietly as she can.
- Is it ok to ask you for a pen and a piece of paper?
- No problem. starts digging through a huge plastic box with drawers and divisions full of supplies – This is my kit, you can get anything you need here.
She smiles gratitude at him.
- But, for future reference, there are a couple of things that you should always carry with you as a PA.
- Oh, ok.
- You should always have a pen, a sharpie, a call-sheet – so you can identify whom you’ve just spoke with – also, gloves always help when you are carrying heavy equipment. Now, if you want to be a pro, then you should have a head set and a knife for lay-out boards.
She was paying as much attention as possible to try to sync every piece of equipment he referred to into the English words she knew. For now, all she could think was about the breakfast order and the much needed pen and paper, already on her hands.
- Oh, ok. Wow. It’s a lot of stuff, hun? I’ll do my best to have it by tomorrow, so I’d come a little more prepared.
- No, you don’t need it for tomorrow at all. There are PAs that never even get to buy that stuff. You don’t have to have it, it’s just helpful.
- Thank you so much, Steve. There is so much to learn. I got to run for this one task, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.
- No need to get back to me, go learn the Set.
She runs to the yellow MoHo, and spotted Hank and two guys laughing while looking at her. "I’m the biggest joke in this fucking set, great! I just don’t know why I’m the only one running here, come on."
She stops by the yellow MoHo, glances at the closed door and walks in without knocking.
- Wow, wow, wow. Are you fucking crazy? There is Talent changing here, sweetie. Didn’t your mom teach you to knock before entering a closed door?
- Well, she did. I mean, I’m sorry, it’s because the last time I knoc…
- What do you need here, Honey? – A very trendy girl, with styled hair a lot a make up and a touch of attitude asked.
- I’m here for breakfast orders for talent.
- Oh, great. So, you’re welcome then.
- Thanks – "Bitches."
- So get your pen going ‘cause is just easier for us all to order through you.
- Ok.
She had no idea what she was in for. Fifteen breakfast orders later, she started sweating. She wondered how she was going to not fuck this up. She walked to the caterer and waited on the long line trying not to see and be seen. When her turn came she started blasting out the orders and the Chef kept staring at her without a response.
- Are you new?
- Yes, sir.
- How are you, darling? My name is Charlie.
- Hi Charlie, I’m Chica. Sorry about this crazy order, I just don’t know a better way to do it.
- Ok, Chica – Wow, he said my name right – I’ll do something for you but don’t tell no one ok, come around and get in here.
She walks to the side of the truck and realizes the fully equipped kitchen they have working as busy as any restaurant. She goes up the two steps and stands by the door.
- I see you got a list with you. Why don’t you give me the list and I’ll take care of it for you.
- Seriously?
- Well, we usually can’t do it like this, but I see it’s your first day, almost everyone already ate and you certainly look a little overwhelmed.
- Can you tell?
- Yes I can, little Chica.
- Charlie, I don’t know how to thank you. Should I just wait here?
- You know, it’ll take me about ten minutes to get this all ready. Why don’t you go to set and keep checking with me when you can?
- That sounds great, I really don’t know how to thank you enough.
- Don’t worry about it. I’ve been on your spot before.
- Have you? Really?
- It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time, right?
- Yeah, yeah. Please don’t let me distract you.
Charlie walks right back into business like she was never there. She’s still wants to thank him more, but she has no other option but moving on.
She runs back to Ethan and tells him that the orders are being taken care of. He thanks her for following up, but warns her she could use the Radio next time instead of looking for him. "God, I’m dumb." He walks away answering the Radio. "I should be paying more attention to this Walkie."
She wonders what to do next. She sees Patrick standing by Scott and walks to him.
- What’s going on?
- Just waiting to see if we’ll need Lock Ups.
- Lock Ups…
- We always need to lock up spots that crew or boogies may walk through when we're shooting. We need to check the frame in the monitor and see what’s going on. When we start rolling camera we need to yell “Roooolling”, and ask people to wait until we cut to cross frame. Then we yell “Cuuuut” when we hear the 1st AD saying it.
- Got you.
He shows her the frame on the Village’s monitor. He points the spots that Scott will probably request Lock Ups. Everything goes through the 1st AD’s approval.
More and more it looks like things are taking their places on Set. A group of guys carry heavy frames through the Set and stage one of them right above Camera. They all seem to be in a different Radio channel.
- Who are those guys?
- Ok, crash course on the departments: Those guys are the Grips, they arrange all the heavy frames, and all the equipment that has to do with lighting, but the light itself. All the power, light bulbs, cables, any electricity involved in general is the Electric crew’s responsibility.
- Oh, ok. They have their own channel.
- Every department is in a different channel; otherwise it would be a cluster fuck.
Then there’s the Camera department, the DP shoots, the first AC does the camera focus, the 2nd AC takes care of the mags and the loader preps and wraps the film itself; The art department dresses the whole Set; and Props are the ones responsible for any object or food that Talent touches.
- It’s so funny this thing about calling “Talent this, Talent that”, instead of actors.
- Then there is VTR, which takes care of playbacks and transmission of image to Village and Director. Sound doesn’t need introductions. At last the usual Vanities. The divas. Make up, wardrobe and hair. Good luck with those ones. But, I got to highlight, that’s where the hot girls live, so I’m always helping them out, you know.
She was too busy trying to download everything into her brain to be able to pay attention on chick comments. It was a fucking lot to learn. "I’m never going to get it. These people are my heroes, how do they know so much, for Christ sake? Oh, no, breakfast. I got to check on the breakfast order."
...
- Hey, Kiddo. Let me tell you something. You’re doing great, we all see you trying really hard. Don’t let these fuckers be contagious. Just watch. Pay close attention, try to soak as much as you can, and keep working hard. You have potential, I can tell.
She felt like crying. He had no idea how much she needed something like that.
- Hey, hey. I’m watching you. Swallow these tears. You got to be Latin, just like my wife and her emotional “condition”.
- Yeah, I’m Latin, and emotional. It’s just being a little too much information, you know.
- Do you think anyone in the world could learn it in a day? You are doing amazing. Just remember there are great PAs out there, but most of them are bums, don’t become one of those.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
The call sheet, time card, however they called that paper in her hands was full of unheard names and titles completely alien to her eyes.
She was curious. She wanted to see the circus working.
She wondered how to dress appropriately for her position, her jeans all seemed too fitting; would a tank top be ok?; Pockets probably would be useful; is the snicker sole thick enough?.
There were just so many questions and with them the fear of no one willing to answer them.
It took her four months going through Craigslist positions and fake resumes, sending over 20 e-mails a day trying to get a intern position on a set and zero responses. Eventually, she finally met some no one that trying to impress her mentioned the PA position. She took it seriously.
Four days later there it was the map and callsheet for the next day shooting. 5am call on New York Street at the Paramount Studios. It all just sounded so glamorous, imagine, her first shoot was already on a historic studio. The place where many of the movies she watched as a youngster with Portuguese subtitles and “hollywooden” images it was now suddenly part of her first day at the office. She felt privileged.
She didn’t sleep her best that night. She kept waking up every forty minutes thinking it was already time to shower. When time had finally come, she jumped out of bed and run into the water enjoying the little yellow and blue butterflies flying in her stomach, she liked it.
Even though she had studied the map the night before it mysteriously looked more complicated at 4:30 in the morning. It was still so dark and all she could think was how cool it would be to be pulled over and be able to say that she was actually going to work even though it was the wee hours. She felt strong and secure and immediately nervous and fearful after… And that’s when she got lost.
It seemed so easy, but somehow she managed to screw it up with a simple wrong left turn. All the streets looked completely new, she had never been in that part of town before. Her heart almost popped out of her mouth on a hiccup, she couldn’t believe she was lost and imminently late for her first day. She felt her stomach groaning, how the fuck could she be hungry at that time in the morning. Yeah, she was definitely lost. She couldn’t drive any longer into nowhere, she had to stop and take a look at her borrowed old ass Thomas Guide. Coffee suddenly sounded great, well, too much to even think about looking for a Starbucks on top of everything. Fuck it, she suddenly stopped in a random corner without blinking her right light. It was already 4:45. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she had to find it. She shuffled the map looking for the right part of the town. She couldn’t be late for her first day, that would really be a big fuck up. He told her he was giving her this chance but she couldn’t disappoint him, he said it twice. I mean, especially her, all her watches were 27 minutes ahead, she was always so particular about being punctual. I know, she was just “unique” like that, so to speak. Thomas Guide under the car center light really wasn’t that helpful. She thought she figured out, she got back in the road. The closer to the location the more her hiccups would gag into each other. She was panicking a little and there they were the yellow signs. Her friend told her about them. When closer to location they would start guiding the lost early birds, or the lazy ones. There they were flashing food/work/fear/strangers/challenge AAAAAAhhhhhhh.
The security guard directed her to a specific parking spot. She turned of the engine, looked around, saw a line already forming by a catering truck. There was a long path of normal-sized and humongous trucks by the sidewalk being downloaded by mostly man. It was too early for faces. She simply had no idea where to go. She took a deep sigh and stepped out of the car. There she was, at fake New York Street, with all the mail boxes, fire extinguishers and trash cans Props just like the real ones. For the first time she could see that most of the “Soho” buildings were shallow. She started walking up the street through Upper East Side and It’s posh three stories building, so charming. She was stunned and stoked. Deal with it or deal with it. She walked to a truck and asked where to find Steve. He walked behind her and gave her a hug. She shrugged. She pulled him aside.
- You got to tell me, someone will explain me what to do, right? I mean, I really have no idea where to go.
- Calm down, you’ll be ok. There is no mystery and no special skills but being aware of what’s been said on the Walkie at all times and make yourself as much available as you can. Watch and learn, girl. Good luck, haha.
- No, hold on, that’s it? Ok, my Walkie he said, my Walkie…Where the fuck do I get a walkie?
He turns around and points the Production Cube from far. She walks to the four guys standing by a desk in front of the truck. They are labeling radios. She sees someone coming and asking for a Radio. She waits and walks in. She introduces herself, they asked her name twice. They laugh and make a joke that she is too nervous to understand. She gives them a yellow smile and asks for a Radio - foreign object one more time. They hand her one with her name spelled completely wrong. Which button is what? Channels, headsets, radio terms??? Ok, she was going to be ok.
She walked to the catering truck line and stood quiet listening to two rough looking guys complaining. She wondered how old all that routine felt to them.
Breakfast was amazing. She couldn’t get over the fact that she could order whatever she wanted, I mean, from pancakes, to sandwiches, burritos, eggs any style you could put together, all for free, I mean, and no one told her anything about that.
The day was looking good. She sat on a table where four other guys were sitting.
- Is anyone sitting here?
- You – they all say simultaneously
- Thanks.
- What do you do here, honey.
She swallow the “honey” a little dry. Ok, she’s getting how it works.
- I’m a PA.
- I bet you are.
Someone says something on the Radio, she uses it as a “Q” to run away from that table. She finishes her egg-whites omelet standing up behind the production truck. Everyone is running around. The overly ripe bald guy, with a beer gut and a face of yesterday was Hank the key PA, she overheard. He’s downloading stuff from the truck, she asks to help and he just starts handing her stuff without even looking at her. She felt she wasn’t that welcome. A lot of chairs, tables, fans, boards, small generators and trash cans sit outside the truck by the driveway. It takes them about 25 minutes.
- So where do we take this stuff to?
- Is it you first day Sheka?
- Well, my name is Chica, and yes, it is my first day.
- Oh great...
She stands quiet.
- It’s gonna be a long day.
- I’m a fast learner.
- They all say that.
She gets quietly embarrassed, she doesn’t want to be a burden, but I mean, everyone starts somewhere, right? She started getting really nervous and insecure. Someone touched her arm.
- Hi there, I’m Patrick.
- Hey, I’m Chica. Sorry for being unexperienced. - He pulls her aside.
- Oh no, sorry about Hank. With time you’ll be able to tell right away the grumpy burnt out PAs, he’s been doing this for way too long.
- Why he haven’t moved up.
- Exaaactly! It’s a long story, you’ll see. So, I overheard it’s your first day. I can help you if you’d like.
- Are you serious? Oh God! Pleeease, I mean, you can totally tell me to shut up if I ask too many questions. Thank you so much Patrick.
- No worries.
- Where do we start?
- Well, first thing we do in the morning is talk to the 1st AD about where does he want to set up Village, Crafty and director’s monitor.
- 1st AD?
- Yeah, Assistant of the Director, he overlooks the whole set and it's pretty much the one we most respond to.
- K. – She had no idea what a 1st AD job breaks down to, but anyway.
She follows him around. He stops by this “buttoned shirt” tall guy that smells authority.
- Hey Scott, good to see you man.
- Patrick my friend, I’m glad you’re here. I know whom to go to if I need anything. At least one solid PA on set.
- Yes, you do, my man. Yes, you do. So, what’s scoop? Where is the first shot?
- We’ll be doing a tight on the hero-guy over the hero-girl shoulder. Camera will be by the north-east corner of the intersection on the tecno-crane.
"Ok, hero-guy, hero-girl…tight over the shoulder, tecno-crane, I’ll get it, it’s ok."
- So camera will be looking this way. Director’s monitor will be right here and village by the flower shop. We got to make sure we put them as far as possible from Enda. He hates agency people. I don’t want either village either monitor to get too comfortable, so keep it minimal because we’re moving around the whole day.
Wow, he was definitely speaking German. Scott says yes to something on the Radio that she didn’t have focus enough to hear. Nothing made sense to her, she felt really dumb.
- And you are…?
- Hi, sorry about that, I’m Chica. It’s my first day, but I’ll try my best to be here for you.
- Uh, a fresh rookie hun, fun! Welcome to the circus. I’ll be nice to you. Don’t worry.
- Thank you, Scott. – She felt shy like never before.
Patrick starts walking. She follows him.
- We need 4 talls, 4 shorts director’s chairs for village and three talls for directors monitor. Oh, by the way, Village is where the Ad Agency and the client sit and watch the footage that is being shot through a VTR monitor. Director’s monitor always has the director plus script supervisor and sometimes producer sitting by it. With that we should also stage by it, trashcans, butt-cans, and sometimes a table for agency if we decide to be nice. Since they’ll be outside, we should also put a pop-up for the bastards, before they request one.
“The bastards” were obviously Agency and client. She had a hard time seeing them that way since her Major was creative direction. If she was in Brazil, she would be sitting by village now, but she wasn’t.
They hurried to the truck, got part of the stuff they need and headed back to set.
They would need a couple of trips back and forth
- Morning and wrapping are the tough times. – He said unwrapping chairs - That’s when you really need to bust your ass to get things done, it gets a lot easier once everything is set up
- How many PAs do we have today?
- Don’t know, probably 6 or 7, but you’ll soon learn that for every 5 PAs’ crew maybe 3 will be really working.
- Oh, that’s exciting.
- Isn’t it? Well, that’s the thing about PAing, you decide how hard of a worker you want to be. I mean, just like any job right, you choose how you portrait yourself.
- Wise words, my friend. You don’t understand how glad I am that you’re here.
- Don’t get too excited. I may slack through out the day. You just got me on a good mood. Besides, come on, you’re not only cute but also Brazilian, I’ll be dumb not to ally to you.
- Oh, ok. Thanks anyway – That sounded sleazy, She knew that’d be a trade, good luck my friend. Anyhow, She had to make the best of it.
They set up the chairs. She watches his motions and mimics everything he does. He is quick and the equipment is heavy. She doesn’t want to seem fragile. She carries as much stuff as he does.
The sun is finally starting to come out. Faces are now more seenable. Jesus, there is a lot of people for one simple commercial. New York Street looks even more glamorous with the sun shining on the windows and all the equipment that is now set on the street. She took a second to stare at that new world. She felt important. She wanted to call family and friends and scream her excitement away.
- “Any available PA?” - Her Radio yelled.
She pressed every button – “I’m available, I’m available” –
- “Anyone copy me? Come on guys, I need an available PA on set” - Patrick showed the right button to hold.
- Hold it for a second and then start speaking as clearly as you can.
- K, thanks. – She pushes the button trembling- I’m available, where do you need me?
- Let me guess, is this Chica, isn’t it? – It had to be Scott.
- Yes, sir.
- Ok, girl, come see me on set.
- Say “10-4” – Patrick said smiling.
- “10-4” – she says on the radio proudly.
She runs to set shaking and stops aside Scott that is currently speaking with someone. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge her. He keeps his conversation going. She doesn’t know if she should show herself to him or simply wait. How urgent was the request. How should she approach this matter?
“Any available PAs” – Her radio is shouting again,. Hold on, so someone else can ask for PAs besides the 1st AD, ok, ok. But is she available or should she wait until she’s able to finally speak with Scott? She stresses for a second. He sees her desperation.
- Go ahead, you can answer that. All I need is a putt-putt for Crafty. You can get it after you answer this on going request.
- Ok – Putt-putt, great! Whatever that means - she presses the radio button - "Chica is available, where do you need me?”
- “Come see me at Production”
“See me” who? Do these people ever use names? And “see me at production…”, so should I know where is production. She Runs to the production truck still thinking about the freaking putt-putt. "I can’t forget it, I can’t forget it."
- Anyone called for a PA in Production?
- Yeah – Hank says – at PRODUCTION though.
- Yeah, so here I am.
- Production means PRO-DUC-TION, where the PM and coordinator stay.
She looks at him blankly.
- Oh, wow! Jesus Christ, Fucking rookies, man!
She starts to blush.
- See that MoHo there, that big fucking brown trailer. – He points at an RV – That’s also known as production Motor Home, sweetheart. Aka MOHO! Get it?
- Oh, ok, thank you very much.
She runs away fuming, wanting to punch his face, She hasn’t felt that dumb in a long long time. She has no time to over-react.
She knocks on the MoHo door before walking in. She overhears “Who the hell is knocking? That’s hilarious!”. She walks in head down. There are about six people inside that seemed like they stopped their actions to stare at her. She mumbles:
- Did anyone ask for an available PA?
- I’m sorry, Honey, speak out please. – A well dressed girl says.
- Come on, Andrea. Be nice. What do you need, Chica? – Steve says.
- Someone asked for an available PA on the Radio a little bit ago.
- Not me. – Andrea, the bitch sitting by the counter with a computer staring at her says.
- Me either – Steve smiles
She looks lost. Who the hell asked for a PA here?
- Chica, it’s always good to know whom you’re speaking with on the Radio, you know. It’s ok to ask.
- Yeah, I guess I’m learning the hard way. – She said shamefully.
- Go back to whatever you were doing prior. Don’t worry.
Oh, really? Ok, I guess following up is not a big deal, off to the putt-putt. She jumps out of the MoHo thinking about the putt-putt. Where the hell is Patrick???
- “Where the hell is the PA that was meeting me at production?” - Her Radio shouts.
- I’m running back to the MoHo, sir. Whom am I speaking with, please?
- “This is Ethan, 2nd AD. No need to meet me just go to two, please.”
“Go to two????” Holy crap, what does that mean???
- “Hello, anyone there? Can you go to two, please?” – The Radio is going off.
- No problem Ethan, but how do I do that? – She says scared as hell of the answer.
- “Excuse me? What do you mean how do you go to two? Who is that?”
- “Hey Ethan. Patrick here, sorry about that, we have a rookie PA on set today. What do you need?”
Someone makes sure a loud laughter is well heard through the Radio. Mother fucker! Great! Now EVERYONE knows I’m fucking it up. She knew Patrick would come to save the day, but she was just embarrassed and overwhelmed with her performance. She missed whatever Ethan said he needed. She was pretty sure Patrick would handle it without her “great’ help at that point. She sighed.
Oh, no. She had to figure out the “putt-putt to crafty” situation. How exciting to deal with Hank again… She runs to the truck when someone yells:
- Pace yourself, crazy girl.
“Pace myself? What is this random whoever talking about? "I wish you were on my skin, jackass.” She sees Hank sitting on the truck gate calmly smoking a cigarette. She wonders why he isn’t as busy as she is.
- Oh, great. Here she comes. What do you need now?
- A putt-putt for crafty – She shyly says expecting him to come with the solution.
He stands up apparently bothered that she interrupted his quiet cigarette. He goes to the back of the truck and gets a red piece of equipment that looks like a small generator. She is intimidated by the old man, well, he was probably aroound forty but he certainly acted like an bitter old man.
- And yes, this is a putt-putt. – He hands it to her with no more words.
Ok, ok, now all I got to do is find out what is crafty. She runs around looking for Patrick, the putt-putt is kind of heavy and she looks around seeking some kind of “Q”.
- Is this genny for crafty? – Someone says.
- Yes, yes it is. – She smiles relieved
- Oh, you can drop it right here. I was wondering if you guys forgot it. What’s your name?
- I’m Chica, sorry for taking so lo…
- Girl, don’t even worry about it. It’s here now, isn’t it? I’m Karl by the way. Nice to meet you, darling. – He started going through a bunch of boxes obviously too busy for any more chatting.
Ok. What’s next now? She started heading back to set with the hope of finding Patrick. She needed a breather.
- Hey, are you a PA? – A dark haired chubby man pulled her away.
- Yes, sir.
- I’m Ethan, 2nd AD. What’s your name?
- Nice meeting you, I’m Chica.
- Oh, you are the rookie.
- Yes, sir.
- Don’t be so uptight, Sheka. You can call me Ethan.
- Ok.
- Hey, can you get breakfast orders from my talent, please?
- Sure, Ethan.
- Do you know how to do it?
- Not really, but I’ll figure out. – She starts walking away to “figure out”.
- Hold on, hold on. It’s ok. Breath, I’ll explain to you.
- Oh, thank you. That’s very kin…
- Anyway, go to that yellow MoHo there. That’s where Talent will be staying today. Just go around and ask what would they like for breakfast, make sure you write it down who order what, ok?
- Ok, ok. - She starts walking away thinking about the pen and piece of paper that she doesn’t have. Where can I get that? Is it ok to ask for it at production?
- Oh, and hey Sheka, - Ethan shouts - don’t fuck it up.
"Thanks, that really doesn’t adds up any pressure to everything that I already have on my mind." She runs to production and enters the MoHo without knocking this time. She goes to Steve and asks as quietly as she can.
- Is it ok to ask you for a pen and a piece of paper?
- No problem. starts digging through a huge plastic box with drawers and divisions full of supplies – This is my kit, you can get anything you need here.
She smiles gratitude at him.
- But, for future reference, there are a couple of things that you should always carry with you as a PA.
- Oh, ok.
- You should always have a pen, a sharpie, a call-sheet – so you can identify whom you’ve just spoke with – also, gloves always help when you are carrying heavy equipment. Now, if you want to be a pro, then you should have a head set and a knife for lay-out boards.
She was paying as much attention as possible to try to sync every piece of equipment he referred to into the English words she knew. For now, all she could think was about the breakfast order and the much needed pen and paper, already on her hands.
- Oh, ok. Wow. It’s a lot of stuff, hun? I’ll do my best to have it by tomorrow, so I’d come a little more prepared.
- No, you don’t need it for tomorrow at all. There are PAs that never even get to buy that stuff. You don’t have to have it, it’s just helpful.
- Thank you so much, Steve. There is so much to learn. I got to run for this one task, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.
- No need to get back to me, go learn the Set.
She runs to the yellow MoHo, and spotted Hank and two guys laughing while looking at her. "I’m the biggest joke in this fucking set, great! I just don’t know why I’m the only one running here, come on."
She stops by the yellow MoHo, glances at the closed door and walks in without knocking.
- Wow, wow, wow. Are you fucking crazy? There is Talent changing here, sweetie. Didn’t your mom teach you to knock before entering a closed door?
- Well, she did. I mean, I’m sorry, it’s because the last time I knoc…
- What do you need here, Honey? – A very trendy girl, with styled hair a lot a make up and a touch of attitude asked.
- I’m here for breakfast orders for talent.
- Oh, great. So, you’re welcome then.
- Thanks – "Bitches."
- So get your pen going ‘cause is just easier for us all to order through you.
- Ok.
She had no idea what she was in for. Fifteen breakfast orders later, she started sweating. She wondered how she was going to not fuck this up. She walked to the caterer and waited on the long line trying not to see and be seen. When her turn came she started blasting out the orders and the Chef kept staring at her without a response.
- Are you new?
- Yes, sir.
- How are you, darling? My name is Charlie.
- Hi Charlie, I’m Chica. Sorry about this crazy order, I just don’t know a better way to do it.
- Ok, Chica – Wow, he said my name right – I’ll do something for you but don’t tell no one ok, come around and get in here.
She walks to the side of the truck and realizes the fully equipped kitchen they have working as busy as any restaurant. She goes up the two steps and stands by the door.
- I see you got a list with you. Why don’t you give me the list and I’ll take care of it for you.
- Seriously?
- Well, we usually can’t do it like this, but I see it’s your first day, almost everyone already ate and you certainly look a little overwhelmed.
- Can you tell?
- Yes I can, little Chica.
- Charlie, I don’t know how to thank you. Should I just wait here?
- You know, it’ll take me about ten minutes to get this all ready. Why don’t you go to set and keep checking with me when you can?
- That sounds great, I really don’t know how to thank you enough.
- Don’t worry about it. I’ve been on your spot before.
- Have you? Really?
- It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time, right?
- Yeah, yeah. Please don’t let me distract you.
Charlie walks right back into business like she was never there. She’s still wants to thank him more, but she has no other option but moving on.
She runs back to Ethan and tells him that the orders are being taken care of. He thanks her for following up, but warns her she could use the Radio next time instead of looking for him. "God, I’m dumb." He walks away answering the Radio. "I should be paying more attention to this Walkie."
She wonders what to do next. She sees Patrick standing by Scott and walks to him.
- What’s going on?
- Just waiting to see if we’ll need Lock Ups.
- Lock Ups…
- We always need to lock up spots that crew or boogies may walk through when we're shooting. We need to check the frame in the monitor and see what’s going on. When we start rolling camera we need to yell “Roooolling”, and ask people to wait until we cut to cross frame. Then we yell “Cuuuut” when we hear the 1st AD saying it.
- Got you.
He shows her the frame on the Village’s monitor. He points the spots that Scott will probably request Lock Ups. Everything goes through the 1st AD’s approval.
More and more it looks like things are taking their places on Set. A group of guys carry heavy frames through the Set and stage one of them right above Camera. They all seem to be in a different Radio channel.
- Who are those guys?
- Ok, crash course on the departments: Those guys are the Grips, they arrange all the heavy frames, and all the equipment that has to do with lighting, but the light itself. All the power, light bulbs, cables, any electricity involved in general is the Electric crew’s responsibility.
- Oh, ok. They have their own channel.
- Every department is in a different channel; otherwise it would be a cluster fuck.
Then there’s the Camera department, the DP shoots, the first AC does the camera focus, the 2nd AC takes care of the mags and the loader preps and wraps the film itself; The art department dresses the whole Set; and Props are the ones responsible for any object or food that Talent touches.
- It’s so funny this thing about calling “Talent this, Talent that”, instead of actors.
- Then there is VTR, which takes care of playbacks and transmission of image to Village and Director. Sound doesn’t need introductions. At last the usual Vanities. The divas. Make up, wardrobe and hair. Good luck with those ones. But, I got to highlight, that’s where the hot girls live, so I’m always helping them out, you know.
She was too busy trying to download everything into her brain to be able to pay attention on chick comments. It was a fucking lot to learn. "I’m never going to get it. These people are my heroes, how do they know so much, for Christ sake? Oh, no, breakfast. I got to check on the breakfast order."
...
- Hey, Kiddo. Let me tell you something. You’re doing great, we all see you trying really hard. Don’t let these fuckers be contagious. Just watch. Pay close attention, try to soak as much as you can, and keep working hard. You have potential, I can tell.
She felt like crying. He had no idea how much she needed something like that.
- Hey, hey. I’m watching you. Swallow these tears. You got to be Latin, just like my wife and her emotional “condition”.
- Yeah, I’m Latin, and emotional. It’s just being a little too much information, you know.
- Do you think anyone in the world could learn it in a day? You are doing amazing. Just remember there are great PAs out there, but most of them are bums, don’t become one of those.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
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