Friday, March 11, 2005

Schmooze or Lose

Joe Friendly will rock your world.

I went to the Damah Film Festival in Beverly Hills last night. It’s a festival of short films geared towards the spiritual.

Of course, a perfect fit for me. Spiritual and short. That’s me to a tee.

And what’s better, there was an opening night meet and greet afterwards. You know how much I like to meet and greet. Kevin invited me to go with him. Tanya didn’t want to.

I always feel like such a downer idiot at these things. Even more so when I’m next to Kevin. He’s a freaking pro at events like these. He’s got Business cards!

Business cards!!

Sure, I know, everyone in the world has business cards but me. But if you have business cards, you had better be prepared to give them out. That’s what they’re for. But in order to do that, you have to talk to people. I really don’t like schmoozing. It seems somehow desperate.

I am desperate. Maybe that’s the problem. I already feel desperate. It’s advertising it that I can’t stand?

I’m nobody in the Hollywood wannabe scene.

But the films were good. Which is pretty remarkable for a short film festival. I actually worked on one of the shorts. I was a grip. The best damned grip/electric anyone’s ever seen. But you wouldn’t know it from my mingling abilities. I knew I was doing a horrible job of mixing when a lady came up to me and introduced herself with “Hi, I’m (whatever her name was)! You look like you don’t know anyone here (sad frowny face). I’m going around and talking the poor lonely losers who have no friends and no one wants to talk to.”

Okay, she didn’t say that last part. But she was all prepared to be my conversation consolation.

I don’t need no charity, lady whatsyourname.

I politely told her that I did, in fact, know a few people at the party. And then turned my gaze elsewhere until she just walked away. She was nice enough. But I really hate those functions.

There were only a couple redeeming things about the after-event. 1) There was a patio with ashtrays. And 2) “Buster Bluth” was there. Tony Hale.

In one of my phone calls with Tanya while I was there, I mentioned that she missed out on meeting one of the cast members from her favorite TV show. She wanted me to go up and talk to him. But I wasn’t about to do that. I wasn’t even talking to the people that I knew. People who weren’t famous. I wasn’t going to go and bug Tony Hale about why his hand wasn’t really missing.

Instead, I watched some other guys do it. They interrupted a conversation he was in to tell him about how much they liked his show and about what huge idiots the people at FOX are for neglecting it…

And then Tony stood up and proceeded to talk with them for the next 45 minutes about everything before giving them his business card.

Tanya also missed out on meeting Tori Spelling. If there is such a thing as missing out on meeting Tori Spelling.

All in all, it was a productive little screening soirée. I got to see some good films and repeat to myself “I could do that” over and over again, have a beer, smoke a couple cigarettes, watch people talk to other people, smell Indian food, and solidify Kevin’s resolve to never invite me to one of these things ever again.

Although, I was trying to make him look good for this cute girl that he would do well to call sometime. He has her business card after all.


Fun Fact: No one smokes in L.A. anymore. The people I meet while smoking at parties are usually my saving grace. No more. That’s a fact. Sure, everyone’s a bit healthier. But what ever happened to my disenfranchised friends?

Oh my, where have the cool kids gone?


I mean, besides here to see the latest TAM Cartoon. Black-lungalicious!

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