Hazing on the hit TV show House

I usually work on reality shows, just because there tend to be more of them and are easier to get on, but every once in a while I’ll get a stint on a scripted show.  As an aspiring writer, I cherish these moments just because they seem to come right before reality sucks my soul completely void of all zest for life.  Last summer I had the pleasure of filling in for a friend of mine on “House” for a month as the set building department’s Production Assistant.

It was a pretty rad gig, my bosses were fun and I basically spent all day laughing at the half-hearted, harmless advances of a bunch of married construction guys…TEAMSTERS! My favorites!  Personally, I would like to see teamster culture overtake the current hipster trend. Why wear skinny jeans and big sunglasses when paint covered Dickies and baggy Bud Light t-shirts with torn breast pockets are all the rage?  It always amazes me that no matter where you are, a teamster will say “hello gorgeous” in a Brooklyn accent.

I’ve always been the kind of girl that becomes “one of the guys” pretty easily, and am luckily used to a little hazing as the newbie.  So on my second day there, Danny, the “Grip Gang Boss” (how SWEET of a title is that?!?! I feel like it should come with a coin to flip ominously) came in and told me it looked like someone had scratched the hell out of my car. I didn’t believe him at first, rolling my eyes and laughing him off, but he was persistent about it and looked pretty concerned, so I got anxious and walked out…  I’m talking to him and then I see it - a giant 6 foot long, 1/2″ wide scratch down the side of my car, to the metal.

I started cursing like the dirty sailor that I am, walking down the ramp to get to my car, Danny following. As I got closer, I could almost see the bill adding up for my car. Cringing, I felt the scratch to see just how bad the damage was…

It was fucking paint tape that they had thinly ripped and lightly tinted grey and red so it looked like a deep gash. Ridiculously impressive looking, these guys were talented.

The next day, I got the following phone call:

Me: House Construction, this is Brandie.
Guy with heavy Indian accent: Yes, is this House construction?
Me: Yes.
Guy: I need you to build me a house.
Me: I’m sorry sir, this is the televisi-
Guy: Money is no problem, but I need a house. In a week. I pay you anything you want. You build me house. In one week.
Me: Sir, this is a TV Show about a pill popping doctor NAMED House… we don’t build actual houses here.
Guy: But you say “House Construction” - you build me house or you liar.

At this point I laughed and figured it had to be a prank call… that damn Grip Gang Boss was at it again, he had gotten me twice now!

But victory would be mine, because of a little game they liked to play called “Paycheck Poker”, which is basically five card draw with the last 3 digits of your check number and the 2 digits of change in your paycheck. The last digit of the date is the wild card, and whoever has the best hand, wins 10 bucks from everyone playing.

I was only there long enough to play once, but when I did, I totally won $150.

Take that, teamsters.