People In Movies Are People Too

Okay, so I've been slacking in posts recently. And I really have no excuse, since all I do every day is waste away on the couch with my ankle elevated, watching DVR'd Anderson Cooper broadcasts. Truth be told, it's probably better that I haven't been writing since it most likely would have been filled with bitterness over my current condition. Today in particular, I am most pathetically depressed for two reasons: one, I had to give up my tickets to tonight's Bruins game to the Broseph since I can not navigate the hockey arena on my crutches; and two, because exactly a year ago today I arrived in London, which I am still in deep withdrawal from. Now, before I dwell too much on either of those, onto something else that does not involve my f*cking ankle or the presidential election.

So, here's a story about one of the many funny encounters I've had with clients (read: semi-famous actors) at my job. This one involves a certain actor who will remain nameless. Actually, I'll call him Rob (not his real name). You've probably never heard of Rob right now, nor would you probably recognize him if you saw him. He actually lives in the same apartment building in Brooklyn as some of my friends, and they don't think they've ever seen him. However, Rob is starring in a certain action film that was produced by a very well-known television producer and is being released very soon on a very important date that those of us who have been following said film are very excited about.

Think about it. This is really a not-so-blind-item.

Anyway, before this film, Rob's resume only had a few television jobs, one as a recurring role on a show that didn't do too well. (Personally, I loved it. Whatever.) So, he came into the office somewhat frequently. He's got a lot of talent, so we tried to get him to audition for as much stuff as possible. Part of the audition process on our end involves the actor coming into the office and meeting with yours truly, who runs his sides with him and puts him on tape to send to the casting director. After filming had wrapped on said film and hype was starting to build, he came into the office a few more times. By this point, I was pretty excited about the movie and got really excited every time he came in so I could try and get some information out of him. It was so well known in my office just how excited I got that whenever he would be on the taping calendar, at least three of my co-workers would IM me to say "Rob's coming in today!! How excited are you?!" Needless to say, everyone involved in the film was under strict confidentiality agreements, so every single time I asked, the conversation went a little something like this:

"So, Rob, how's everything going?"
"Oh, you know, it's good, I went to see this really cool band last night, and--"
"So, can you tell me anything about '_________' ?"
*Pause*
"Will you give me your number?"
*Chuckle, chuckle*
"No."
"Then no."
*Pause as I reconsider*
"Seriously though, I really can't."
*I reconsider reconsidering*
"Alrighty then! Let's get you on tape, shall we?"

Et cetera. Every time. No joke. Now, that's not the funny part. The last time he came in, we had the same conversation, blah blah blah. We go into the taping room and he gets settled while I set up the camera. He's rummaging in his backpack for something. Out the corner of my eye, I see him pull out a water bottle. And with the water bottle, out falls a pair of women's pink underwear. He stuffed them back in as quickly as possible, while glancing to see if I'd noticed. Luckily for both of us, I could avert my eyes quickly enough and pretend to be focusing very closely on pressing the "ON" button on the camera. Not to mention, keeping a straight face. I did not move my eyes from the camera until he had safely zipped his backpack and stood up, and even then, his face was slightly pinkish.

We ran the audition with ease, and I forgot about it in a few minutes, mostly because he really is a very talented actor. It wasn't until afterwards that I thought about it, and I cringed for him. I think he's a bit of a ladies' man, but it still would have been incredibly embarrassing for him and painfully awkward for me if he knew that I saw him. It wasn't until much later that I realized what an idiot I had been for missing out on a golden opportunity. Instead of averting my eyes and pretending not to see, I could have easily solved my problems by simply dropping the line, "Tell me about the movie and no one will know about this."

Needless to say, I am not quick enough on my feet to think of that, and now I, like everyone else, have to wait until the movie comes out. But, when Rob becomes hugely famous in the future, I will remember that moment and chuckle to myself. And maybe tell everyone I know.