Spent yet another day up in the "perms", continuing to tear out the ugly cluster fuck that was the power run for "Girlfriends".. The job has changed, though.. they now need the stage for a pilot, so it's not a complete tear- out.. it's just cleaning up most of the stuff, stacking it neatly, and leaving it there for the next rigging crew.
The 'count to ten' syndrome in action, only this time it's definitely worked in my favor. Having to tear out all the heavy cable (All of the cable we run is heavy - "heavy cable" is the heaviest stuff that we have.) and drop the stuff to the floor - while it would have been another day of work - would have really been painful - literally painful.. On days when there's a lot of cable, I go home sore and feeling sick, no matter how much water I've had.. Add the antibiotics into the mix, and that's Not A Good Thing.
We're still chopping up the "horse cock" and pitching it into the dumpster. It's still fun! The Artful Dodger brought a CD player up into the perms today and put on a Madonna CD.. I don't mind listening to Madonna, but it's just funny to see a grizzled crew guy bopping around to "Ray of Light". You'd think he'd like country or 'rental house rock' (that's classic rock, but it's all they play in the rental houses - hence the term).
At lunch I went over to the stage where "Enterprise" is wrapping, to give the boys copies of the by now infamous bridge photos, and I ran into Mr. Movie Star - smoking and making phone calls outside his stage door.. He's still not that cute but very, very charming. I showed him the bridge photo and told the story about the UPM busting us.. he thought it was funny, and then said that he was really disappointed that I was all the way across the lot as he liked talking to me. I felt all fluttery inside - I never, ever feel fluttery inside when an actor (famous or not) talks to me. Damn.
The conversation ended with my telling him to come over to my stage anytime - all he would have to do is walk on the stage and scream my name - and him responding by telling me that it would be much easier if I just gave him my phone number.
I just gave my phone number to an actor. I still can't believe I did that.. He must have had me under some sort of weird movie star spell.
Good thing the boys didn't see it - I'd never, ever hear the end of it.
The boob hurt like hell this morning, bright red and very painful - of course, I whacked it with a connector first thing in the morning (as I was hoisting a piece of 'horse cock' up to throw it over the rail into the dumpster), and ended up screaming in pain - the source of which I CAN'T explain to the boys.
After lunch, though, the boob felt better.. I guess the antibiotics are taking hold - redness is down, and it's much less painful, although still swollen.
We had a 'permit' today.. He's not union, but is trying to get his days to get in. Nice, nice guy. He's hilarious, and we didn't rib him too bad. He's back with us tomorrow.
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