Walking down 55th street this morning, I was met by three men in cargo shorts and t-shirts with wires in their ears. I thought for sure they were undercover secret service, waiting for some diplomat at the swanky hotel on the corner. But then I looked down the barricaded block and saw camera crews, trailers, lights and screens. I was walking onto a real live major motion movie set. I pretended to be completely unfazed by the situation, waiting while every few steps I was greeted by the hand of another stage hand telling me to stop and be silent. I thought, silence? On the streets of New York? You picked the wrong location Mr. Director. Thank goodness I had worn a good outfit today. But I was looking far from camera ready with my hair in a messy ponytail and my makeup slightly au natural. Oh well - they would have to make it work. I kept going, trying to make the walk to my office building at the end of the block last much longer than it normally takes, just in case, Mr. Director saw me and thought, now she must be in the film. Quick, hair and makeup, run her through her lines, and get her a cappuccino! Well, I was flattered to say the least. But sir, I have to get to work. Nonsense, my agent will call your boss.
"Lady, move!" I was daydreaming. I walked by Mr. Director. I smiled. He looked right through me. Must have been the hair. But hey, soon you may see me on a screen in a theater near you. Look for the arm of a pink jacket in the far corner of the screen. Roll the credits.
