So I figured I like driving and meeting people. So I found the perfect job. So my days are spent grinding through the 405 freeway and swooshing through the canyons with A list celebrities in the back of the salubrious car. It’s strange, I seem to hold the sanctity of what goes on in the car in a higher regard than the rehab world. It’s a straightforward world. Although it like a video game, with the clock ticking on each job.
I had a great chat with a young actor, Oscar-nominated. I didn’t recognize him at first. But then the penny dropped. We both studied at Conservatoires. The discussion went into what it really takes to succeed, especially in show business. People tend to see the end result, which is a massive factor.
He said I should just go for the writing thing. How does one just go for it? I write. My book is out there in a sea of self-publishers. But I love to write. Do what you love, they say.
The universe will open up and throw petals on your way.
It’s hard right now. The Jaguar is in purgatory. The harpies in my head are laughing and say sell it. They don’t know what it means to me. Perhaps they do and that’s why they are tormenting me. But before I know it…a hundred dollar tip here and a forty dollar tip there and its on route to a mechanics bill.
The insurance company that was handling the debacle on Venice Boulevard called me. Debacle, because Secrets Recovery had failed to have me on the insurance. This was after a year of driving around high-risk clients. Yet another confirmation of the contents of the book. I was not insured. I was very detailed in my conversation with the agent and said that I would be willing to swear under oath my correct version of events that I describe in the book.
Another day on the road, every day is getting easier. The airport is becoming less of a mystery. The supervisor pulled me aside and commended me on my performance in a short space of time. However it’s not dissimilar to Secrets. The difference is that the clients are not sick. Similar demographic. I am more than familiar with that world. lawyers, executives, and celebrities.
I was out of cycle with the payroll. So I am glad of the tips and grateful for just being able to get through another day.
The lawyer I picked up the other day was very cool. She had heard about the Coffee Bean Caper, the subject of my upcoming book, The Devil’s Slideshow. I explained that it is a story about redemption.
At present, surrounded by lycra with a whole gaggle of Studio City residents who have no sense of personal space as they trundle on with their continuous PR campaigns. I sip my coffee and admire the absurdity of the current exhibition. Hashtag environment, Hashtag bleeding hearts. Whales and trees made out of plastic flowers. Not sure if it is better than the Unicorn ejaculate of the last show.