I recently got a job for an actor I know…it was print, paid pretty well and knew he was a natural for what they wanted. Corporate, urbane, slim as a pencil…a man with built-in style making it look easy, great for film.
We do the job together, goes well like I anticipated, get fabulous pictures that I suggest we parlay to glean more work.
He says with a big shit-eating grin on his face, “Hold on baby, lets just take it a little slower. I’m married you know.”
When I came to, I said, “Excuse me? There’s a campaign going on for Bank of America we’d be perfect for. Pays 5K…what exactly is the problem here?”
“I know you want this to go further. I knew right away, but I’m not just not sure I’m in the market.”
I wanted to hang his head in the market like a freshly shot elk.
Have you heard no good deed goes unpunished? I’m crocheting it on a sampler.
This is guy who complained rather loudly he wasn’t working, so Gwenevere over here, hops on her steed to the rescue, and he thinks I’m trying to fuck him.
To my credit I didn’t castrate him verbally or otherwise, but he really disappointed me.
It’s happened before, those crossed wires you should have remembered to gingerly step over.
Camille, that sage of wisdom, always warns, “be careful what you say to a guy…I like your tie…nice jacket, because the next thing you know you’ll be up against the wall with a zipper in your mouth.”
Too long for a sampler.
I am so upfront it’s a wonder I have a back. What you see is what you get. Frankly, who has time for such intrigue. I certainly don’t. But if a guy thinks there’s a blowjob in his future just because you like his shoes, he has another thing coming.
Then again, that would be more wishful thinking.