Dressed all nice (as instructed), put on the spray-on hair* and drove up to the city. Had a little trouble finding parking (go figure), but got to the casting office without much trouble at all. It's not the usual casting office I go to in the city, so it was a new space for me. Walked into the Foyer and filled out the paper work, signed in, and made my way down the hall towards the big room. I was greeted by Nancy, the actual casting agent herself, and she had me take a seat at one of the tables in the waiting area, where I chatted with another nice lady who was waiting.
Took about 10 minutes till I went in (other lady went first) and the casting assistant (young guy with a British accent) set the space and camera up and gave me some quick directions. I rehearsed twice, shot once, and I was out. Nancy called out "Nice job!" from upstairs where she was watching the video feed as I departed.
I don't think I'll get it. The part was written for a brother, so I'm a little too pale (although I must say that I did some seriously awesome Al Green style tree humping). But I could still get an extra spot in the background. Who knows. I had fun, though, and now I'm registered with another casting agent. That makes two in SF and one in SJ. WOO!
So I wandered back to the car and called Shaun. For those unfamiliar with Shaun, she's the awesomz. She was in the Perfect Proposal gig with me two years ago (for those unfamiliar with that, it was my national cable TV debut). She runs the SF Improv Festival. She got me the voice over gig. She's producing my Improv show up in the city. And she's a genuinely good person.
So anyway... I called Shaun to see if she was hungry, which she was, so I headed over to her place. The plan was to go to our usual Thai joint near her house, but we decided that since we were both dressed up, we should go somewhere fancy.
So we went to the Cliff House and had lunch at Sutro's. We didn't have reservations, but it was right about that time when you're between the second and last rush of lunch eaters, so we were able to get a table. A good table, actually. If you follow the Sutro's link, we sat at the table directly below the absolute center of the first picture along the far set of windows. The food was fantastic (and stupid expensive) and we had a great time. But as all our conversations go, we started off with what had happened since we'd seen each other last (Shaun got to meet the mayor of SF), and then, per usual, we started talking business.
Now, I didn't realize that when we talk business we actually sound like we're talking Business. Note the capital B. As in Show Business. Cause there we were gabbing away about taking over theater spaces, hiring actors, having auditions, publicity, rehearsal schedules and SAG when the woman at the next table politely interrupted us.
"I'm a nurse, and I used to work at San Quentin. I've written a play. Two plays actually. Comedies about my time there."
Shaun and I looked at each other. Then we both realized that we were two very well dressed people sitting in a great seat in an expensive restaurant talking about producing comedy. And someone overheard us and thought we were important. Not that we're not important. We're just not THAT important. Yet.
Talk about an ego boost. We chatted with the lady for a while, ate, went back to our conversations (with her chiming in now and then-- she was eating alone except for her Chihuahua-Fox Terrier mix in her lap bag), and processed everything we'd scheduled to process regarding our various projects together (which means I can write that motherfucking lunch off).
I'm going to be renting some space from Shaun in the next few weeks for shooting the video for Britney Back. My manic episode from Saturday/Sunday was pretty much entirely dedicated to coming up with a treatment for the video. I can see it in my head now. It's mostly cast (pending a yes reply from walid_muffin). Both locations have been secured. And I've even got a bead on a bear skin rug thanks to kellyangel.
We also discussed B-Movie Night. We've pushed it back to March because Shaun has been given a HEYOUGE project for Black History Month, and I've got another project in the works (tentatively titled Super Sekrit Project) which you'll hear about more in the next couple months. While I'm sad it's farther away, this is actually a big weight off my shoulders, cause I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to do Super Sekrit Project and B-Movie Night simultaneously while working so I can pay bills, too. Plus, there may be a hitch with location, but that should be easy to resolve.
So we finished our conversation, had desert, talked with the nice lady and her dog some more, then adjourned and walked back to the car.
Someone was bending over near my car.
I walked a little faster, and saw a woman who was crouched behind my car stand up and walk around to the front, where she bent, and took a picture. I called out "I know it's dirty, but come on!" She looked up, startled, and laughed. So did her friend, whose car was stopped on the other side of the parking spaces. "We love your license plates," said one. "I wanted a picture of it for my husband," said the other. Then she proceeded to take a picture of me and Shaun standing next to my car.
As we drove out of the parking lot I turned to look at Shaun and said, "Today, we're motherfucking rock stars."
She smiled and said, "Hell yeah, baby."
motherfucking rock star
This was supposed to be another entry, posted MONTHS ago, but I totally forgot to write it.
Last time I got my hair cut, my hair dresser (Khoi) says, "I want to try something. We'll wash it right out, but it's a new product, and I just want to see how it works." He goes on to explain that it's a powdered hair spray. The powder in the spray clings to your hair, and makes it thicker. It also covers grey, cause the powder is dark brown.
"So it's basically spray on hair." I said, "Because the brown powder also sticks to my scalp, right?"
He fidgeted a little before saying, "Well yeah. But we'll wash it right out!"
I laughed and told him to go for it.
He sprayed my hair up into a fauxhawk, and damn if it didn't look like I had a decent head of thick hair. I laughed even more.
"Okay, let's wash it out," he said.
"HELL NO!" I laughed, "I've got spray-on hair, dude! Will it blow away if I drive around in my convertible?"
"No, but don't go anywhere that you'll sweat."
I couldn't stop laughing. I laughed so hard I bought a bottle of the stuff, because video cameras take 2 to 3 inches off your hairline while adding 10 to 20 pounds to your ass. So I justified it as "anti-glare spray" for Moron Life shoots.
But I'd never used it. Until today.
I've got fucking spray on hair. BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!