I was rude today.
Imagine that, me, rude.
I had to go to the set, to see my director...K, for our film (I shudder in anticipation and fear at that word)...that starts shooting on Tuesday. It's a clever, well written piece, called 'scar'.
It's a short, K's baby...her heart and soul are in this, and she's no idea this journal exists, so, I'm not saying it to win points... I'm proud to be attached to this project...plus, I get half the swag when we go to the festivals, so, I'm totally going to bust my butt on this job.
Besides, I want to AD the next film...I'm oblivious, not stupid.
I had to change the train twice to reach Greenpoint Avenue.
The 'F' train stands for FUCK...who are these people? I really do believe when you are released from any mental facility, still whacked out (I can say this, I have enough white coats in my closet to qualify for being certifiable), they say, "Here are your meds, try to remember to take them... come out of the train tunnels into the parks so we'll know it's Spring, and, oh! here's your never ending pass for the 'F' train."
The 'G' train stands for "GODDAMNIT, THIS IS SHIT".
I arrive at my 'G' train stop, enjoying Greenpoint, thinking... I can live here. Of course, after my project apartment in the Bronx, I can live in a box in a park in
I settled into my seat, both bags tucked down, one with my laptop, the other holding my precious kit of script supervision equipment... the terrier sitting and looking around.. and I lean forward, to ask if this is, indeed, the right train to go to my stop.
"Excuse me, does this train go to blah blah?"
She looked at me as if the terrier had eaten a wheel of cheese, and was telling her about it in Spanish.
The terrier doesn't like cheese.
"Ummm...wow....hmmm... I don't know. I think so." Her headset back on, she started into the darkness of the tunnel beyond my shoulder.
The woman next to me who'd just sat down said, "Yes, it's two stops away."
We chatted a bit, the train moved, and sure enough... there was my stop.
Guess who stood up and got off?
Miss Google Search Engine herself.
I matched her stride for stride, and as we came out of the dark, into the nice smelling air of the street, I turned and said...."Aren't you lucky this was my stop?"
"Because, if I hadn't gotten off the train here, on Greenpoint Avenue, the stop you weren't sure existed, you'd still be on the train, wouldn't you. Oh, and have a nice day."
I kinda feel bad.
Then I bought some kind of Polish pastry full of transfat and cheese and sugar and butter, and I was fine.
My luck, she'll be on the board of the apartment I want to rent.... and I'll have to lie and say it was my twin sister, Tondalaya, who was mean to her.
I've used that excuse before.... not that it's worked or anything....always a first time for everything, I suppose.