This is part two of my adventure at a Hollywood Networking Event on the West Side last week.
As I wandered around a somewhat depressing wood-paneled room while trying to reconcile all of my ambitions, I came upon two ladies in their mid twenties. They were well-dressed, and one even had a very nice coach handbag.
We shook hands and got to talking.
So what do you do in this crazy town? I asked.
I work for Rebecca Betterman. The girl with the coach bag said.
There was a long pause. Was I supposed to know who Rebecca Betterman was? I didn’t know who Rebecca Betterman was.
So who’s Rebecca Betterman? I asked.
She’s a producer. Some of her product (she really used the word, product) includes ‘Love Me Love You’ and ‘A Bunch of Fashionable Women Talking About Boys’. She said.
I had never seen the Fashionable Women movie, but Love Me Love You did make me vomit in my mouth. So Rebecca Betterman is a producer. Now I know. For a second, I had been worried that she was a new name for God.
I didn’t say any of this (I do have some tact.), and the girl with the nice coach bag was distracted by her friend opening her birthday present which turned out to be a t-shirt and a coffee cup from a television show I had never seen.
I moved onto the bar and decided that I was so going to blog about that encounter. Then, I wondered if I had encounters like that just to blog about them. Was I purposely turning my life into art just to make it interesting to my readership? Was I having a post-modern meltdown? Oh no!
At the bar I met an artist with no name, and we had a delightfully subversive conversation. When I told him my name, the artist said, no, you can’t be Sunshine Jen, that’s not right for you, you’re Bad Ass Jen.
I ordered a sparkling water from the bartender who never charged me for it and drank it down quickly. I had to go to another thing that night.