Boo Ya, a paper thin reason for me to tell a story of my old life in LA!
Once upon a time (not too long ago actually) I was under the deluded idea that I may be able to make it in the film industry as a writer/director. I realised that the best thing to do would be to take a number of low paid jobs in a film studio (Called Intermedia- if you are bothered) and would hopefully somehow gain some inside contacts within the industry etc etc (Lame I know but it I had already done the whole send a few scripts to companies route and wanted to get in where I could).

Anywhoo the jobs I had were degrading, I was finally promoted to the job of “on-set dogsbody” and would be sent to do errands for the more famous actors as were a number of other likeminded souls who had moved to LA to improve their chances of stardom. During certain times me and my mates were not really needed (Mostly during studio shooting- most dogsbodies like myself were banned from anywhere near camera), we would spend that time arsing around or doing a number of other office related errands for the company. As I was the more trusted of the bunch I was sometimes tasked with the bank run and would nip to the local bank if needed.

During one of our little parts of free time during the filming of the third Terminator film (Which was an experience in itself that will reappear in a number of later QOTW replies) one of the lads had brought something in to entertain us during the closed set parts, a magnetic game of travel Monopoly. The entire game was compact and when we had to go do our job we could easily fold the thing up, keep what money we had made (including properties) and start up straight away when we all next got together.

We loved the game and spent the next few days trying to cram every free period into the sodding thing. It nearly cost me my job too.
It was a Friday and the office had called me to do the usual cash run for them at 2, at 1:30 I was hunched over a mini monopoly board hoping to get past the more expensive areas owned by my mates and onto my own stretch of hotel covered board. I threw a stupid number and was forced to pay my mate Clive. I swore very loudly which caught the attention of a nearby group. One of the group came over but I was too focused to see who it was.

“What are you doing?” came a familiar European drawl. I turned round and shat myself. There was Arnold Schwarzenegger leaning over our game of Monopoly. When I explained he seemed interested. “Can I play then?” asked the governator hopefully.

What the hell should I do. This bloke is the highest paid bloke on set but our game has been going on for a few days. Then I remembered the office errand I was supposed to do “Sorry mate we are just finishing up because I have to go do the cash run for the office”

“I will wait till you get back then, it looks like fun” replied Arnie.

Gah, take the hint and go play with some weights or something I thought, but thankfully Clive plucked up the courage to speak “Actually we can’t Mr Schwarzenegger” he stammered “all the player pieces have been used, we have nothing left.”

Upon hearing this Arnie grabbed Clive, pulled him off of his feet so they were both at the same eye level and said “I’ll be bank”

(I am so, so sorry)
(mon bison powered by magnets, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 10:06, 1 reply)

Hang your
head in shame. Clicked anyway though.
(berk, Fri 17 Jul 2009, 15:19, closed)