Part IV- Comfort from a Garden Gnome

I was recommended for the job of production manager/coordinator by a "friend" Jamison. I met him a year prior on a shot that was the greatest disaster that I had ever seen, production wise and post. After I burnt my arm on a walk in oven, sent home the AD, lost my craft services girl, bitched out the director's mother, and filled in for the jobs of hair and makeup, art direction, continuity, and script at the same time, Jamison and I would pass out in the broken down generator truck out from pure sickness and exhaustion. I think I have talked to him maybe twice since that last shoot. But, I enjoy his company and have always thought that he’s a very talented and trustworthy guy.

Jamison wouldn’t arrive on set till morning. The two "Strappin Latins" who were keeping me company on set could smell my fear. Or maybe they could see it. Either way, I think that it was pretty obvious that I was having some doubts. As I was getting ready for bed, Libby, the pink and blue haired scripty/co-producer, crawled into bed with Matt. After brushing my teeth I walk back to see that the guys had ridged a night light over my mattress and placed a statue of a garden gnome over my head to make me feel more comfortable.

I woke up four hours later. As the UPM I had to have breakfast ready for the rest of the crew before they arrived on set. "Matt" I growled from my place on the floor. "No where in Brooklyn is going to be open for breakfast at five thirty in the morning." Upon this realization, I knew that I was screwed. I have spent very little time in Brooklyn but, I did know that I wouldn’t find a suburban style 7-11 or my corner NYC packie that sells beer and food all through the night and into the cold black morning. What did I get myself into?

"(song)Dun dun dun dun na na" Phil, the unobtrusive actor that was sprawled out in the chair the night before, slid across the floor wearing only socks and a pair of tight blue women’s shorts. "Baby blues" was what he called them. And for some reason, Phil was comfortable dancing around in them like he was auditioning for a part in Risky Business. I ignored what I was witnessing. Maybe I wasn’t actually awake. It was too early in the morning to acknowledge the insanity of the situation. It was too early to know that this behavior was normal and that by the end I too would be dancing to the music in my head.