This isn’t the first time this has happened actually. I’ve been on video chats with producers popping back lunch. I like it, actually. Makes me feel a little more at ease. Like we’re just chatting. Not determining my fate.
None the less, I’d wager that when he’s chatting with his A-list clients, Manager’s not tossing back the trail mix. I’d go on to bet that the reason for these snack chats is that I’m still just something he fits in between real meetings.
Totally understandable. I pull the same deal when I call my mother. Because I’m a terrible son. And also because I have a raging addiction to workahol.
This week I’ve been bumped from Manager’s call list two days running. It’s happened before. It’s given me some time to re-analogizing my career path.
I used to see it as standing in line. Waiting for my number to come up. I learned early on that passes aren’t (necessarily) rejections of your talent. They’re indications of a script not being right for that particular exec at the time. And times change. Eventually, your number comes up. You get to the head of the line. To the counter.
This past year I got to the counter. But the counter’s a busy place.
Turns out, getting past the counter just puts you into a new place:
The bottom of the heap.
The option agreement negotiation is ongoing. No idea how long these proceedings normally last, but this seems excessive. I suspect it’s because, as with Manager, Lawyer’s got a few slightly bigger fish to fry than lil’ ol’ me.
That I’ve never gotten an email from him any earlier than 7:30pm, is a hint. It’s also a hint that Lawyer’s a pretty busy guy. His poor mother.
So this is my new lot. I’m the bottom of the heap. The afterthought. The we’ll get to him when we can.
But that’s cool. Nowhere to go but up and all that. Sure beats not knowing if the phone will ring at all. If the inbox will remain empty forever.
Fact remains, as of yet, I haven’t yet made anybody else any money. That I’m in the heap at all, is a blessing.
Make other people rich, that’s how you climb. Climb up to where the air is clean. To where the emails arrive at 10am. To where I do the munching on the other end of the line.
Yeah… It’s gonna be sweet I tells ya.