Oh, Agents

I’m looking for a new agent, so I met with one today at his office in Hollywood. Before our meeting I sat in a modest couch in his small office trying to suck in my muffin top situation caused by my skinny jeans. What’s a muffin top? Julia Roberts explained it best in Eat Pray Love when she said “where your tummy hangs just a tad over your jeans when you sit.”

Skinny jeans are the worst, really, but I wear them because they flatter the right places. Several women pass but don’t acknowledge I’m in the room, which is troubling. Donning a flowered dress, angry smile and thick hands, the secretary hands me a clip board and a questioner-type thing. After I fill it out, I wait patiently.

“Are you ready to see Mr. Fay now?”

“Yes.” I look up, relieved to stop the survey.

A shorter girl with a bobbed hair cut and press-on nails, (possible intern?) leads me into a tiny office, probably 7×7, and I sit.

Fay, the man behind the desk, is wearing a purple shirt and black suit. He greets me with an aggressive handshake and then tells me straight away that he represents a guy I did a movie with a while back and he also wants my story.

“OK. I’m from Chicago. Looking for a new agent. I have a film coming out in October….(awkward pause)… I’m an Aries.”

“I don’t like your head shots,” he impulsively chirps.

“Well. I have hundreds of others you can see online if you like.”

“Why haven’t you done more TV?”

“For some reason my path has been movies other than all the TV soap operas and pilots I did, but I’m open to TV. Can you get me on Lost season 7?” I joke. He does not laugh.

His brown eyes sneer at me like he’s a life-size evil hawk planning his attack.

“Any questions for me Alice?” He quickly glances at my resume like it’s the Sunday morning newspaper obituary section.

“Sure. What are you looking for?” –

Fay interrupts me and squirms in the leather chair revealing bright purple socks.

“Someone that doesn’t bore me.” He runs his hands over his bald head revealing a glitzy pinky ring.

“And what does that mean exactly?”

“Well, Alice, if I have to talk about you all day long to casting directors you better be interesting enough to talk about for more than five minutes.”

This left me speechless.

“I see” is all I can muster up the courage to say, when I’m actually deeply concerned about this man’s mental stability and emotional happiness.

“OK, that’s it,” he says. “I’ve seen all I need. Have a nice day.”

And I left. I’m sorry that there are agents like that in the world, and I’m sorry that I didn’t excuse my self from the meeting sooner. But I’m definitely not sorry for lemon cake, which I eat now before my hot bath. If this business has taught me anything, it’s to not take anything personally. I am moving on.

Alice can be reached at AliceActress@yahoo.com

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