Call time for Prom Queen was at 7:30am. I dont think Ive been up before 8am since spring 2002. It was weird to see people actually on the street. They got us into Hamilton and into background holding at 8:30 and left us there until 5:30. Seriously. I had forgotten my book and my gameboy and, for kicks, I was considering killing the owners of the greasy fry-up that was renting out their 15×15 “party” room to the production company. It would have been something. The collection of extras was your similar-to-QaF trendy hip fags in one corner, the straight boys in another and a few older types, playing friends of lawyers (one played by Scott Thompson), all sitting around absorbing the smell of stale cigarettes and bacon. They pulled half the extras into set for tight shots and left the rest of us there to listen to the owners of the restaraunt (?) tell us about how people kept on filming pornos in the back “party” room. He was going onto his third sexcapade story when I blurted out “OOOH! King of the Hill!” which thankfully came on the tv over the make-up benches. Volume up. Ten minutes into the show they called us to the set…fuck. No…not during The Bold and the Beautiful…
Wardrobe was interesting. Intructions were to bring hip youthfull biz type clothes, which I have none. I brought my brushed black cotton sport coat, grey dress shirt and acid lime green tie borrowed from my roomie. The assistant wardrobe took one look and made a face that resembled your finger after being a week in water. “Oh go ahead and put that on,” she said of the tie. When the main wardrobe mistress came in I was the first person she saw coming into the room “Thats a great tie!” she exclaims. Oh movie people.
By the time they placed us on set and gave us our crossing cues I was in a much better mood. Punchy. Scott Thompson flubbed his line 5 out of 7 takes but they didnt seem to mind the order of “this brave gay teen”. I had my first instant background mime lesson in seconds. “Cantelope, watermellon” my lips feighned while my eyes were so expressive. The girl I was paired up with had a cracking great chest with a pair of lips for a zipper pull lain poetically over her cleavage. I couldnt stop looking at it. I wound up mime-talking to it at one point. She and I nearly started to laugh out loud at one point.
In all a good day if not long. I wound up getting extra cash upon extra cash for the time-overages. I wonder what I will be put on next?