But what are they getting?
April 21, 2008
Here are some things that happened this week:
1) Have you ever noticed that youngish guy execs like to talk like they’re Recon Marines? For instance, they might be going to lunch, and they’ll wander around the office gathering each other and saying ridiculous things like:
LET’S DO IT!*
LOCK AND LOAD, GENTLEMEN.
LET’S ROCK AND ROLL!
To the untrained observer, it might seem like they’re going to do something crazy dangerous like head out on foot patrol in Fallujah. But actually they’re just going to get sushi.
Youngish guy execs! Who knows why they do anything.
2) I was hanging out with a bunch of other assistants and I had this sudden, shocking realization that maybe I shouldn’t live in Los Angeles, maybe I should… be the stay-at-home helpmeet of a 1950s submarine officer. Because here are some things industry assistants like to talk about:
*where to meet wealthy men
*which executive is going to get fired
*awesome things they did recently while drunk
And here are some things I like to talk about:
*awesome military blogs I’ve read recently
A total disconnect!
There is a movie coming out that has as its tagline GET SOME. And the girl I was working with last week said “I don’t understand that” and I said “What, “Get some”? It’s what Marines say. GET SOME! – you know?” and she said “But get some what, though?” and I said “They’re not getting anything specific! I don’t know, death and destruction. Manly things! Don’t you ever watch any war movies?”
And then we both looked at each other blankly.
3) Last week a soapy cable show about plastic surgeons was filming in the hallway outside the office I was in. And late in the day, when they were about to start shooting, I had to run upstairs for something. So I asked a PA if I’d still have time to go up and come down before they locked down the set, and he was all breezy (NEVER TRUST A BREEZY PA).
So I go up, I talk to the guy, I get on the elevator and come back down. And the doors open. DING.
AND THE WHOLE LOBBY FULL OF PEOPLE.
TURNS AND STARES AT ME.
BECAUSE I HAVE INTERRUPTED THEIR TAKE.
HAHAHAHA. I had to try really hard not to laugh, because I was having that thing where you’re both totally embarrassed but you can also tell that this is going to make you laugh as soon as you stop blushing. You know? (Is that just me? That might just be me. I am always pissing people off by – in the middle of something sucky – being all “Man, this is going to be totally hilarious in like five minutes.”)
“…sorry,” I say. This lady is all “It’s okay!” but everyone was totally annoyed.
I, of course, was half-blind with embarrassment. So in a fit of genius, I head for the nearest door (ESCAPE! ESCAPE!), and the lady was all “Wait one second?” because they were recording room tone. So I stood there all faux-casually and then got the thumbs-up and went through the door.
ONLY TO REMEMBER.
THAT THAT DOOR LEADS TO A CONFERENCE ROOM.
WITH NO EXIT.
So then I had to come back out again. Trying to look all “What? Oh, yes. I just had to go in there. For a thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
That was totally awkward.
4) I was at the library picking up a book on one of my many obscure, non-LA-assistant-appropriate interests (this one is about how moving from hunting and gathering to farming changes cultures) when I discovered that there is a series of romance novels for ladies wherein the heroes are ULTIMATE FIGHTERS.
I find this very interesting. And bizarre. One of the books, based on my perusal of the back cover, is about a man who is a former ULTIMATE FIGHTER and also an actor and also wrongly accused of murder and also he enjoys art galleries. And his butler is also an ULTIMATE FIGHTER.
Writing romance novels must be interesting! It looks like you can do whatever you want. “My hero is going to be a spy and also a thoracic surgeon and also he is going to be a great fado singer. Also he’ll have suffered greatly due to his colorblindness.”
5) This week I told a youngish guy exec that maybe instead of throwing small electronics around when he was stressed out he could buy “one of those balls”- you know, I meant those little stress balls some tense people have to squeeze and fling around? And he started laughing and then the other youngish guy exec in the room started laughing and be all “AHAHAHAH, you said BALL” and implying that I was talking about testicles.
I always find this so odd! Not offensive, just odd. I mean– why on earth would I suggest that someone buy a testicle? Why would I even be talking about testicles in an office setting? WHY WOULD I BE TALKING ABOUT TESTICLES AT ALL? That doesn’t even make sense!
*Once in a while someone will say LET’S DO THIS THING but I always assume that they’re being intentionally hilarious. Perhaps I am giving them too much credit! But the other option is too horrible to be contemplated.