The day all the blood sweat and tears I had given away for was finally here. The AFM (American Film Market). The cross roads of the film industry world was at the Lowes Hotel in Santa Monica. Everybody whos anybody in film was there. Executives from Singapore, Japan, and England. Buyers from France, Italy, and China. Sellers from Spain, Poland, and Ukrane. They were all concentrated in this one ocean front luxery hotel…and yes, I was invited. Everyone was dressed in black, but not funeral type black, rich type black. I was in a suit as well. I sat at the desk and greated potential sellers and buyers as they walked in. Some had a meeting set up whiles others did not. For the people who did not, I would sit them down and show them several trailers for up and coming movies the company would be releasing. The whole point is to get these movies to sell internationally. Some people were impressed while others not so much. While the executives were waiting for a meeting i would also ask them if they would like a diet coke or “cucumber water” which is a huge LA obsession although I’m not sure why. While waiting on a Parisian gentelmen who asked for a diet coke, my boss told me not to put ice in it because the french do not believe in putting so much ice in their drinks. Tid bits of information like that are extremely important to remember.

After the film market, which i had worked for about 9 hours, I was told, not asked, to go to attend the industry after party on a rooftop terrace at an asian restaurant in Santa Monica. If that was thrilling enough, the CEO of the company told me to ride with him in his car because I had to be at the door with a list of names to check people in ASAP. I’ve never sweat so much in my life. He called me slow, and told basically to hurry the fuck up or he’d be leaving without me…frantically I ran after him down the hall. Looking back now, I probably looked like i had just wrestled a giant pit bull. We get down to the garage and a smile crept its way onto my face because a beautiful 2 door convertable aston martin was in my sights and obviously it was none other than his!! The thrill quickly went away however as soon as i realized i didnt know how to open the door =. I stood there grabbing at nothing bc there was no handle. I then embarrassingly said “how do you open this thing??” and he just starred at me as he got into the car and leaned over to open my door. I got in and we were off

Driving down ocean boulevard in Santa Monica in this luxery car was the best feeling in the world. I GET IT, IM SHALLOW. but it really was. Everyone we passed stopped and looked at the car, better yet, they stopped to look who was in the car and there sat me in my suit and my boss in his. If only I as rich as i looked. Everyone must have though i was a millionaire just being in that car, looks can be decieving and life can be ironic because little did they know i was calling my mom and dad asking for money every month. My boss had then told me to call the assistant and ask for a tape. I did that and while i was talking to him on the phone my boss was driving…I then hung up the phone and 3 minutes later he asked “so did u call my assistant?”…ok PAUSE. This is classic. How in the world did not just hear me on the phone with him? Were 5 inches from each other. Is is self absorption? Is your world so packed full of work and stress that your mind wonders into other realities? Is it an act? I DO NOT HAVE THE ANSWER but it was the most bizzarre question ever been asked. That’s just how he operated though, many times when trying to talk to him he would seem like he was in another world. If u had his attention for 2 seconds consider yourself fucking lucky. and if he remembers a word u say consider yourself a lottery winner.

We pulled up into the restuarant and walked in. I was told to stay at the door with the assistand with the list of exclusive names and anyone who was on the list must be turned away. True Hollywood Party style.