Gated Community

Today I went to sign up with an agency that is casting the new Ferdie Feganburger movie "The Sad Belgian." My family is from Belgium, so I hope to work lots on this.

The casting agency was in a bunglow at the very back of an enormous complex called "X Marks the Spot" in Hollywood. It was raining today, and I was looking for the office amongst the lack of signposts until I found the spot.

I found the address and I walked up to a door that had a child gate on it. I looked down at the gate, and looked up at a women who was on the computer behind the gate.

"Hold on," she said very firmly.

I guess I would be outside the gate.

In my sheepish no-harm voice: "I'm here to see Boss?"

More firmly from her: "Hold on."

I guess I was to remain outside the gate.

Finally Boss came around the corner. He was very nice, I had spoken to him on the phone the other day, and he was waiving my fee since I knew the art director on this movie.

"Hey, here take this and fill it out."

"Okay, thanks," I said, and then I looked down. Did he really want me to do this standing up, outside in the rain?

Under his breath, "They don't let you guys inside."

Under my breath as I walked away "This is so fucking rude."

I was just about to start writing on the form, which was getting splattered, when Boss sez:

"hey, come here. Come in, I'm getting you a chair."

I think Boss had a chat with someone. I'm allowed in the actual office. I step over the gate. As I'm sitting down, a dog runs up to me. Now I know the reason for the child's gate. A dog.

The women who had commanded me to stay outside the gate started furiously admonishing the dog: "Stop it, stop bothering him."

I swear-to-god, it translated as "Go away from the strange extra filth, you're above them. Don't get their scent on you."

As in, oh, why do dogs lick their penis?

Why do they trifle with these disgusting sub-humans?

Then, Boss told her that I was so-in-so's friend. She immediately warmed up to me, although not before she quizzed me to make sure I was his friend, and not someone who'd looked up his name on-line.

"He probably smells my dog on me," I said about the dog as I was about to pet him.

"NO, he doesn't." she barked, which translated as "don't pet him, you're an extra."

I was glad to leave the gated community.