The one where I get stuck at CAA...

No Dublin for Mr X after all. Instead, he’s got a marketing meeting at the studio at 10.30am. He wants me to meet him there again to give him his shoes. Yes. His shoes. He had me take them off his hands to get them polished for the Daddy/Daughter dance in Malibu on Saturday.

My head was all over the place... I had an early walk up Runyon this morning (picture posted). I went over to the studio offices. No Mr X. Nothing. Weird. He's not picking up his phone either. Double weird. No reponse to an email either. Triple weird. I hope he's okay. He always answers something.

Meanwhile, his girlfriend is calling. "Where’s her package?" Fuck. Bloody Fedex. Turns out there was a mechanical fault with the plane. The package couldn’t arrive. I scream at them, fedex, that I’m going to lose my job if it doesn’t arrive by Saturday. They say they’ll do that. But now they’re saying it’s the wrong zipcode. I’d missed off a one. Nightmare. I’m in trouble now. And it's Fedex's fault. Not mine. Not mine at all. I want her to get her present. It's her birthday and Fedex have been horribly unhelpful. Aaaargh.

Anyway… I’m at the studio. Having parked on the street – I get in and… the two boys on reception couldn’t be more friendly. I’ve been accepted. Go me.

So. It’s straight into the conference room where JK – the film’s new line producer is waiting for Mr X to interview ADs. I put my brown bag on the table. The bag contains Mr X's shoes. Yes. The shoes. They are still with me. We chat. He’s lovely. I have to say. Really nice.

In walks the first candidate. Initial impression. Nope. But what do I know?

Anyway, Mr X is messaging me. Finally. He's okay. Phew. But... he's at CAA. JK is looking at me - I can see it in the eyes. "What the fuck is going on?". Mr X is meant to be there. With JK. And, right now, I'm in the room with the ADs instead. Aaaargh. This is fucked up.

And then comes the question. “Where’s Mr X? Will be here soon?” Now. What they don’t know is that there's something going on behind the scenes and Mr X is dealing with it. He's at CAA to have a shakedown. But I can't tell JK that. I can't tell anyone that. Hmmm. This is tricky. Instead, I try and keep to the truth:

"I'm terribly sorry. But... Mr X's locked in another meeting that's run on."

Despite this, the potential AD has not left the room. He's still talking. And the second guy's turned up for his interview. I need AD1 out so I can tell JK what's going on. Thankfully, the studio exec on the film turns up to explain the situation to everyone. It’s now 2.15pm and AD1 still isn’t leaving the room. C'mon. Out out out. We've got things to do. AD2 needs to come in. Finally AD1 leaves and we can get the next one in.

Time for damage limitation however and I’m on my blackberry calling AD agents and the other potential candidates - I'm trying to go ‘abort… abort’. Mr X not being here means coming in for an interview would be a waste of time. Thing is, one of them is nearly at the studio – he just drove in from miles away. Ooops. Still, I managed to reach them all – despite the fact that most of them were already waiting in the lobby. The film’s got a SAG waiver so I guess with the fear surrounding films at the moment, knowing that this one’s going to go ahead means that it’s a job and who doesn’t want a job right now?

I go back into the interview room and this… this is where it got interesting for me. JK’s only been on the film for four days – me? Four months. Time has really flown by. So… suddenly I’m part of the interview process. I’m trying hard to just look official. I manage to do a wicked doodle. And then, I get asked the question - “And what does Mr X think of xxxxxx.” I managed to bluff an answer. After all. I’m a professional. Before you know it, I’m sitting in with the candidates. I send J a message - she'd love this. She'd also know what to do. Still. I'm not doing a bad job. People are looking at me when they give their answers – what the fuck? I have no idea what’s going on. Damage limitation. that's all I'm thinking of right now.

My blackberry’s off again. It’s Mr X. He wants me to meet him with the shoes at CAA. Shitter. I look like crap. At least I’m in all black. No one ever looks truly dreadful in all black… but… it’s been raining. And I’ve been caught in it. I’m not looking my best. It has to be said. I decide to see through the interviews with JK. A chance to just blend in and become a part of the process. He’s also the one hiring and firing at the moment. I ask him if he can find out if I’ve got a job – or not. Am I Pittsburgh bound…? Who the fuck knows right now. He appreciated that I might want to know so he said he’d look into it. Right now, all I need to do is my job and do it to the best of my ability… that’s all I can do.

I’m off to CAA. The famous CAA. I’m approaching CAA. Fuck me it’s BIG.

I park up at the shopping centre and arrive at the agency (still with the shoes in a brown paper bag) and ask for Mr X’s agent's office. I have to wait in the lobby. Everyone there looks important. They’re all waiting… And… eventually… down comes R. I finally get to meet Mr X’s agents's asst. Or… xxxxxxxxxasst@caa.com. She’s never had a name. Just that. We go up to the office. It’s a corner office. Everyone’s very busy. Very groomed. I’m ushered in and there’s Mr X.

He’s still on the phone. I give him the shoes. He nods. He’s still on the phone to the studio. He’s been on with them for about three hours now. I’m told to sit. And wait. And I get to meet The agent. But he’s on the phone. Everyone’s very busy. Mr X gets up. “I’m going to xxxx’s office.” And he leaves me there. Alone. I feel like a twat. A twat with a pair of polished black shoes. It’s now that I see the agency system at work.

“Get me xxxxxx [important big Hollywood name] on one.” – agent

“he’s in casting.” – agent assist

“get him” – agent

There’s a pause.

We’re emailing while the agent is talking to his assistant.

“Shit. It’s non-stop isn’t it,” I write to the assistant.

“Yep. I’m sure it’s the same with you,” replies assistant.

I have no idea what to write now. She's busy. So busy. So I stop writing. He looks like he might throw a hissy fit. I think she's joking.

Meawhile the 'banter' in the office is still going:

“Get me xxxx xxxx’s [a-list actor] number,” Agent.

“xxxxxx [big name] on one,” Assistant.

“I’m too busy. Get me xxxxxxx. I’m never going to get through this fucking list tonight,” Agent
.
“xxxxxx [bigger name] on one,” Assistant.

“Where’s Xxxxxx’s [A-list actor] number? Someone’s got it. Ask around. Put it out there….” Agent

And then he picks up the phone.

“Hey,” he says to me as I’m trying to sink into the chair opposite him as I wait for Mr X. Trying to be part of the furniture. I'm just sitting in his office. Trying to blend.

“Yeah…” I says nonchalantly.

“You want some candy?” Agent.

Huh? The man’s offering me candy. I don’t eat sugar. But I don’t want to turn down his candy. I won’t have the candy. But I like candy. I want the candy. This could be a moment to bond. I’ll take the candy. Yes. Maybe this is our moment.

“It’s the best you’ve ever had,” agent.

I slope up to his desk. What is this? What is going on? Are we friends now?

“Go on. Have both. Take it. Take it,” Agent says.

He is the typical agent. You want him in your court. He’s better than Ari Gold in Entourage because he’s real. He’s a proper proper agent. I love it. I hate it. I love it. I’m at the desk noshing on his candy. I can’t stop now. I put it down. He’s telling me to take it. I tell him to stop pushing his candy on me. He needs some. I tell him to take his candy. This is getting weird now. I’m in an office discussing candy and sugar while Mr X is fighting for his film in another room.

A man comes into the room. He introduces himself. I just tell him I’m Noam. He thinks I’m important and then the agent tells him I’m Mr X’s assistant. I don’t know who he is. I email the assistant to try and find out who he is. Anyway, we start discussing Gerry Butler’s shagability. I don’t know if this is appropriate or not as I don’t know who he is. Anyway. We have some fun. I like him. He’s funny. I don’t know if he’s important or not. All I know is that we’ve delayed his appointment with the agent for three hours as Mr X’s been holed up at CAA.

Mr X’s back. He’s had enough – he wants to leave. His agent wants answers. Mr X’s spent though so we leave. As we go some wannabe shark of an agent comes over. He’s all over Mr X. Tedious. I’m still trotting behind. Eventually we leave. I’m out of CAA. Mr X has managed to get someone to look after his car right outside the door. It's pouring. Mr X drives me to my car. He wishes me a nice weekend – he’s off to spend time with his daughter and I’m off to get ready for the Grammy party I’m going to tonight at the Paramount lot.

9pm. I’m dressed. I’m ready. I’m knackered and I’m going to go to a party on my own. Then.. Tamara rings. A friend’s in town and they’re meeting up with A.N. Other UK actor at Firefly for a night out. Oh well. I wish I could go but…

I’m driving in the rain. It’s kinda scary and then I get the call from Mr X. It’s 9.30pm. He’s had an accident on the PCH. A boulder hit his car and it spun. He's okay, thankfully, but the car is not. He wants me to drive to Zuma tomorrow for 10am to take him to his hire car. Oh poo. That means an early night tonight rather than enjoy the Grammy party. I suck at this job. I'm thinking about me. I don't want to drive 50 miles to his place to drive him five miles up the road. Oh well. I have to do this. And hire his car. And... do it with a smile.

I arrive at the Paramount lot. I’m on my own at a party. It’s kind of weird. I’m dressed up. For me. A dress. Make up. Fresh hair. And I’m emailing xxxxx from the studio that invited me. She’s by the cheese. I’m by the cheese. Wrong cheese. There are two cheese tables. I’m at the better one. She’s English and friendly. So we hang out. Before you know it I bump into someone I know. JVDF. A friend of E’s. He’s with someone who worked at Dazed in London. So she knows some of my former Time Out and City friends. Small world… small world. And I don’t look like a loser. See? I know people.

By midnight, however… I’m bored. I don’t know enough people to make this worthwhile really. I’m tired and bored. I got kudos points for being spotted saying hello to Adam (aka DJ AM). I didn’t realise he was DJ AM. I don’t know who that is but I know that he’s Adam. Nice guy. He knows Nico. Of course. Who doesn't?

I leave. It’s 12.15am. And who’s arriving? Nico. He’s greeting everyone. Like a king among minions. I'm done. I’m off. That’s it. And I’ve got to drive to Malibu in the morning.

2am. I’m online. I’m looking at local car hire places in Malibu. I’m compiling a list. A long list. Which I’m emailing to Mr X: “Please look at his before I arrive tomorrow so I can book it while driving over to yours in the morning.”

I've got to get up in six hours. Ew. This is not going to be pretty.