Monday, March 21, 2005

two floors up at a tuna factory without a paddle

"Be careful or you'll never eat craft services in this town again."

I have this talent for walking in on conversations at the wrong moment.

"Dude," he continued, "that's not the least bit funny." The producer looked pissed.

"I'm not trying to be funny," said the stuntman, "we're just talking. So anyway," he said to the group of teamsters, "there I was, two floors up at a tuna factory in Long Beach..."

The producer walked off in a huff, looking worried, looking like his head would explode.

"What did I miss?" I asked, laughing.

"Jimmy over here, he fell off the honeywagon and twisted his knee."

That explained all the PAs running around, looking for ice. One particularly pushy PA interrupted a conversation I was having with the AD. I shrugged and he walked away. "Try craft services, genius." I had muttered under my breath.

"How did you fall off the can?" I asked Jimmy. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh at your misfortune."

A beat, then everyone, including Jimmy, explodes into gales of laughter.

Stuntman answered for him, "Mr. Big-Shot Producer over there couldn't give him five minutes of peace. Jimmy went to take a dump, his walkie-talkie goes off, Big-Shot is yelling about some stupid thing. Jimmy opens the door, still talking on the walkie-talkie, and he falls down the stairs." More laughter.

Suppressing laughter, I ask, "Are you okay?"

"I'm more embarassed than anything, but my knee is swelling up."

"Is someone taking you to emergency?"

"Yeah, Morgan will."

"Uh, which one is Morgan?"

"The one with the script, asking everyone to read it."

"Um, yeah. Which one is that?" Should I be insulted that I'm the only one he hasn't asked?

"Khakis, black hoodie..."

"Um, yeah. Could you narrow that down a little bit more?"

More laughter.

"Why aren't you gone? What are you waiting for?" I asked, eyeing his rapidly expanding knee.

"Morgan is rinsing off the orange juicer. Some tool mashed a banana in it."

I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.

"So why is Big-Shot so pissed off?" I asked the group.

Everyone points and laughs at Stuntman.

"I was just telling everybody how I got these injuries," he explained, pointing to burn scars on his chest, forearms, and jawline.

"So what's the big deal?"

"I was just saying that everyone sued the production company because they were negligent. I'm dangling on a wire two floors up at this tuna factory and the explosion almost took my face off. The wardrobe lady got a picture of me on fire. I was just a ball of flames, but you could see my arm hanging on to the rope."

"Holy shit."

"No kidding. So I told Jimmy that I knew a great personal injury attorney, and Big-Shot's head almost exploded. He said it wasn't funny, I said I thought it was hilarious. That's when you walked in."

Incredulously, I asked, "And he wants to make sure you'll never eat craft services in this town again?"

"Yeah. I better be careful."

Laughter.

These are not PAs. This is Silk and Celia

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