Arriving at the Kaufman Astoria Studios parking lot, just across the street from the business entrance, resulted in an immediate argument with the parking lot caretaker. An elderly man wearing blue overalls speaking with an overbearing foreign accent that easily leads to a mish-mosh of misunderstandings for parking instructions. As I pulled up and asked how much it would cost to park here, he gave me a long cocophonous explanation that enventuated on a single phrase of communal understanding: $7.00 -Sounded fair to me.
But as soon as I gave him the money he told me to leave the convenient parking lot and embark upon a search for a movie-house parking area a few blocks away... where I could now park my vehicle on a rooftop area! Huhhhhh?
"Give me back the money -I'll find my own parking spot for free!" I retorted. And I did... right across from the big front entrance to the studio-building that was just around the corner.
After going into the lobby and asking where the "POWER OF 10" extras were to be assembled, the guards behind the security desk knew nothing. Eventually they called a neuromancing PA with a jacked-in secret-service-type of earpiece that was constantly issuing instructions and status updates to her somewhat over-multi-tasked brain. Nonetheless, she was able to point me in the right direction with as little eye-contact that she could afford... "go outside the building and around the OTHER corner! You'll see the others lined up there." Here we go...
But as soon as I gave him the money he told me to leave the convenient parking lot and embark upon a search for a movie-house parking area a few blocks away... where I could now park my vehicle on a rooftop area! Huhhhhh?
"Give me back the money -I'll find my own parking spot for free!" I retorted. And I did... right across from the big front entrance to the studio-building that was just around the corner.
After going into the lobby and asking where the "POWER OF 10" extras were to be assembled, the guards behind the security desk knew nothing. Eventually they called a neuromancing PA with a jacked-in secret-service-type of earpiece that was constantly issuing instructions and status updates to her somewhat over-multi-tasked brain. Nonetheless, she was able to point me in the right direction with as little eye-contact that she could afford... "go outside the building and around the OTHER corner! You'll see the others lined up there." Here we go...
Around the corner... there were about a hundred young people waiting to be called in for audience seat-filler gigs. It was a new game show hosted by Drew Cary. But no one was going in... everyone was just mulling about aimlessly. As I found out later, there were 2 groups: people WITH tickets and people who were EXTRAS from varius agencies. Mine was Extra Mile...others were Kaplan...etc. And the reason no one was going in was because they overbooked the number of extras (who would provide seat-filling-talent, should the ticketed population decide on not showing up). But the "ticket holders" were arriving en masse and we extras had to stand around without shelter, drink, food or toilet facilities from 6:30 PM until 10:30 PM before there was a need for us. And then finally one of the PA's announced: "I need 15 people...", and IN we went to the audience area with the show already in progress. Our "act" was to "CHEER Drew and the contestants"!
Oh joy...been there/done that at David Letterman and at Millionaire.
After 20 minutes, the show ended... Drew gave a short and quick bye-bye and went off the stage, high-fiving me as he passed by. What-a-guy! (What a dull gig!)
In the process of waiting around for hours prior to being called into action, I made a few new friends... most of them Italian -one of which bummed a ride off me to Long Beach. I didn't mind. It made me feel more usefull than a hungry, thirsty, piss-filled cheerleader.
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