A guy probably in his mid-forties approached me today at a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf in Hollywood. He came up to me sweating rather profusely in a little faux silk shirt number with stringy, long hair in desperate need in need of maintenance, his head topped off with a tragically hip “Doggie Fizzle” scripted baseball cap.
It was hot.
Doggie Fizzle proceeded to ask me if I’d audition for a music video for this band named Julie, which plays ambiguously classified music that I may or may not be able to look up on Myspace. Yay for credibility. He excitedly tells me I’d be the ex-girlfriend subject of this break-up song in which I’d be filmed pulling out a heart and random other internal organs from a fake cadaver. Despite how this idea reminds me more of a misguided 7th grade science fair project than a music video, I let him finish.
Doggie Fizzle: “So, you’re an actress, right?”
Me: “Um, no…”
He was quite surprised at this. Why does everybody in Los Angeles seem to think that I’m one of those blue-eyed wonders who’ll do anything for face time on camera? I’m not even an actress and I’m still being typecast! He also told me that they were looking for a certain look, i.e. so that’s why he came up to me in the first place. So apparently I look like some crazy woman who’ll going around ripping people’s hearts out. That’s comforting.
I find it odd that Doggie Fizzle, or whomever he works for, thinks that randomly approaching people to be in some no-name band’s music video is actually going to work. If you live in L.A. and spend any time in Hollywood, you are automatically skeptical of people hitting you up for entertainment stuff. It happens all the time, and usually from scruffy looking white guys who’d never look right in a real recording studio anyways. Out here, everyone’s got something big in the works or knows someone really high up but rarely does their stuff go anywhere. We Anglenos know this all too well, so why would you send out Doggie Fizzle to do some grassroots recruitment with that “winning” pitch and expect people to go for it?
I considered it for a second. Hey, I try to be nice and it might even pay. But the idea of me standing in a room being told to look a little crazy and “just dig in” didn’t appeal to me in the end. Sorry. I guess I’m not set out for hustling in the entertainment business—good thing I don’t fancy myself an actress.
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