Totally Unauthorized

A side of the film industry most people never see.

The Face Plant, and other Indignities

I got worked today.. On top of it being very hot and humid all day, we actually did a lot of hard labor. I’m sore and shaky. I forsee a date with a hot bath and Epsom salts.

To get the equipment (lights, stands, cable, assorted junk) from the floor of the stage to the lamp dock (which is on the other side of the lot), it’s loaded into ‘tuggers’ – these are metal cages four feet deep by six feet wide and about 5 feet tall that have an open side and a hitch that you can tow with a forklift – if you tow it with a forklift, you have to run alongside it like a secret service agent in a presidential motorcade to make sure that nothing falls out the open side, or you can be macho and use brute force tug it along (hence the name) – we had four, and one of them for some reason was very difficult to turn – whichever direction you wanted it to turn, the wheels would lock in the opposite direction, and the damn thing just wouldn’t move…

We named it Christine.

We were struggling with Christine – we wanted her to go around a turn and of course she refused – making us unhook her from the forklift and fight with her – when Mr. Movie Star walked by. He winked at me and said “Hey, babe.” I giggled, and then Christine turned unexpectedly, threw me off balance and I fell right on my ass. Christine then continued to turn and whacked me in the head with her hitch. To make it worse, these insane giggles were coming out of me as I sat on the blacktop with a bad case of the flop sweat and a big rust mark on my head where the hitch nailed me.

I guess Christine didn’t approve of Mr. Movie Star.

The boys, of course, thought this was hilarious. The Artful Dodger almost fell off his bike because he was laughing so hard.. Mr. Movie Star gallantly helped me up, asked if I was okay, and then winked at me again before he walked off.

The boys took to imitating my insane girl giggle for the rest of the day. Anytime someone would say my name or speak to me, they’d start giggling. Eventually, it escalated into my being called “Giggles”.

I suppose this is Karmic retribution for that whole Walrus thing.

Filed under: Work

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