There's no business like show business...

Shit. My boss just informed me that pitching a new film project to “industry people” is analogous to dating. I think I picked the wrong career.

I started a new job about 4 months ago as an assistant at a small film and television production company. Prior to taking on this role, I was responsible for tossing menus to the hoity toity Beverly Hills elite at an Italian Restaurant, all the while feigning foreign fluency by uttering such greetings as “Buon Giorno” and “Buona Serra” as said uppity BH folk would protest their seating arrangements. I don’t want to brag, but more often than not, I would convince these various clients (ranging from old time Hollywood producers to women with face lifts the likes of which Joan Rivers has yet to accomplish, to various Z list celebrities, agents, and Michael Bolton,) that table 23 is in fact even lovelier than table 14, which can “get a bit drafty.” I would usually then be suavely slipped a 20 for my valiant efforts.

But those days are gone. And now I am working in an industry whose daily MO consists of phone calls, phone tag, lack of return phone calls, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and coffee dates, emailing, lack of emailing and waiting. A lot of waiting. And pondering. And analyzing. Well do you think Colin Farrell really liked the role? How do you think he’s reacting to the script? Do you think his agent will get back to us? What kind of games is he playing? Those damn agents, never can quite trust ‘em. And the real pisser: Should we just move on to the next guy?

There are a few concentrated areas of life at which I excel: reading, literary analysis, writing, kayaking (I am inexplicably naturally gifted,) foreign language, elipticizing, cooking/entertaining, public speaking and swimming. However, dating is not my forte. It was not missing on the aforementioned list on accident. I actually have concluded that I suck at it. While I would rather get to know someone in a relaxed situation rather than as a part of the institutionalized custom that forces human interaction over a beverage, meal, or activity, I have come to realize that I just don’t know how to play the game.

I have had a handful of dates in my 22 years, enough to gauge my proficiency. Everything from a blind date, at which I hastily asked for the bill and was promptly asked to pay “halfsy wasvy’s” by none other than the cheap ass with whom I was dining, to one too many “Let’s just go out and have drinks,” which then turns into a calculated ploy to spread his seed after properly watering me. (I’m sorry but my loins are worth a hell of a lot more than 2 vodka sodas and thus 2 easy payments of $9.95. OK, it’s LA, the vodka’s probably top shelf-- we’ll go with $14.95.)

There are the occasional good experiences, too. You meet a guy, exchange phone numbers. He calls (nay texts) you the designated 3-5 days later, at which point you exchange witty banter, (albeit over facebook or G Chat,) and arrange a date. And instead of drinks, he suggests dinner. And instead of talking about the inane activity that men your age generally enjoy discussing, you talk about shit that matters, (to you at least). And although you feel you may have fucked things up on more than one occasion, (let's face it, the only game you enjoy is Scrabble--not the proverbial dating game)-- you attempt to patiently await the next phase of the process. All the while you utter cliches including,but not limited to, "It's worth it, you never know if you don't try, and you're a smart, confident woman, what's the worst that could happen--you get a bruised ego?"

And so, the film industry is the same. There are those who go on lunch dates with producers because their pocketbook is a bit slim, and they need some free sustenance. Or there are those who “just ask you for drinks” in an attempt to use you for the information that you have. And you sit and you wait and you ponder what could be going through their heads, until you wonder… When should we go to the next guy? And is it worth doing all over again?