The Incident with the Midget

First and foremost, I would like to offer a formal apology to my fabulous readers.  Last week, I spelled “implore” wrong as “emplore”.  I know this has caused mental anguish to at least one of you, and for that I am deeply, deeply sorry.  I only hope that, in time, you can forgive me for my egregious error in spell-check, and stop crying about it like a girl.

So our IMDB experiment from last week rocked, you guys!  Up 102%!  You love me, you really love me!  And I will now always have this little tidbit in my trivia section:

“Has been known to perform carefully orchestrated sleight-of-hand stunts on most sets as a way to break the ice between cast and crew, including many fancy card tricks, and a Houdiniesque escape from a straight jacket.”

Fantastic.  How did you know I’ve always wanted to own a straight jacket?  Oh you.  ::pinches your cheek lovingly::

I’m glad that made it through the IMDB censors though, I’ve been having trouble with some TRUE facts about myself, like “Has a deep seated fear of little people.”

Don’t laugh; I’m not even being funny.  When I was five, I went to my first sleepover at a girl in my ballet class’ house.  Why was I in ballet?  Because I was a huge tomboy growing up and my mom was afraid I would become a lesbian…  because painting your daughters like cheap little hookers is better than letting them climb a tree from time to time.  Guess what we watched that night though:  Child’s Play 2.  My life would never be the same.  To this day, seeing Chucky’s face or hearing his voice or anything related to him sets me off into a minor panic attack – it’s a debilitating phobia.

On Hollywood and Highland there is a guy that dresses like Chucky and walks up to people with a plastic machete.  If I’m heading over there, I have to drive past first to see if he’s there, because I know that if he comes near me, my animal instincts will take over, and I will punt him across the street before I even realize what I’m doing.  If he only knew the lengths I was going to, to make sure he doesn’t get dropkicked.  You’re welcome sir.

And it’s more than just the doll that gets me, I’m uneasy around little people and children – if it walks on 2 legs and operates out of my peripheral, I don’t trust it.  So you can imagine my horror upon getting to set for a short film I worked on called “The Grass Is Always Greener”…  and one of the four main characters was a midget.

I had to stand in for lighting his scene partner with him time and time again, had to take his dinner order, even helped him into one of his costumes - all the while making conversation and quelling the ever-rising tide of panic within myself.  At the end of the night of shooting, I drove home emotionally exhausted – I had given the performance of a lifetime, AND gotten his coffee order right.

A PA’s work is never done.