I wrote this after my first “Guild” meeting. It was an orientation meeting. My introduction to the Writer’s Guild of America, West. The day I guess I officially became a big bad “screenwriter.” I never had a choice about joining. I had not even sold a script. Just an option. But it was a studio option, a real contract which implied on some level or other I might get paid for more and that was good enough for the Guild. They called me. And told me spit up twenty-five hundred bucks or pack my toys because I would not work in town again if I didn’t.

That “orientation” was one of the most condescending situations I have ever been in. The people leading the meeting told me to wait in the hall. Long after the meeting allegedly was supposed to begin. Seriously, I got there running late, and was told to get out of the room, go wait in the hall. In really snotty tones. Me. Well. I do not do halls real well. I opted for the parking lot, and smoked a lot, while other new inductees waited in the hall like third grade children called to the principal’s office.

[Wondering now what I was doing in the third grade? Waiting in the hall or smoking in the parking lot? Let’s not go there.]

The meeting started forty-five minutes late.

No one leading the meeting knew what in hell they were doing or talking about. This maybe explains the making people wait in the hall stuff. I guess they were trying to get their notes straight. Except, after making people cool their heels in a hall WITH NO CHAIRS A REAL LONG TIME so they could confer, they were still handing out wrong information. Lots of wrong information. And contradicting each other. A lot.

Basically I walked out of there knowing, one, people who run orientation meetings so do not know what the fuck they are doing or talking about, and two, my “Guild” didn’t give much of a fuck about new inductees other than it sure wanted that twenty-five hundred bucks and wanted it before the ink was dry.

What still stands out to me most, though, besides “Bun Woman” [who fucking hated me on sight and made it very obvious to everyone in the room, I still remember you Bun Woman], is Cowboy Boots Guy.

See, Bun Woman just wanted me dead. Cowboy Boots Guy though thought he might be able to nail me at the “social.”

Gee, nailed on one team, murdered on the other. That is just a good time for the whole family.

by your you already took my 2500 bucks, don’t think you are taking more adams girl





i said





where this came from :
damn blonde
— that site won’t work if you have pop ups disabled damn blonde is an old site and that means old java it predates pop up frenzy but it is real pretty if you bulk down a little to go see it

2 Responses to condescending

  1. I absolutely love that quote trailing down the side.

  2. max

    Thanks Toni. That was me playing with tables. I am still cracking up over your comment about what could have happened if Koko watched too much Lifetime programming too. I have missed you and forgot how diabolically funny you are.

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