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Nepotism: Part II

June 7, 2015

When I was fourteen, my father took a job on the movie Riding In Cars With Boys. I was a big Drew Barrymore fan at the time and my Dad arranged for me to be an extra when they were filming in a church near the Tappan Zee Bridge. I was sure that that as soon as I walked in, the entire cast and crew would see that I was a natural born star, and the writer would write a part, especially for me into the script. After a few mornings of being chastised by the hair department, one afternoon in Brittany Murphy’s trailer discussing her nuanced performance in Clueless, a role that I “really identified with”, and countless hours flirting with some kid named Mike, I finally made an impression on the crew one day. I had already been yelled at by the set dressers for eating too much of the “prop” macaroni salad, so I had to find something else to occupy my attention when I was stuck on set. In my downtime, I’d been making good use of my newly brace-less mouth to suck face with Mike behind the central air conditioning unit outside the holding area, but at this particularly moment I was stuck in front of off-limits food, waiting. This was when I discovered that my chair was broken; the plastic top was only attached to the metal legs in the back, so the whole front could lean back, like a recliner. I started rocking back and forth, and while it wasn’t quite as stimulating as searching for Mike’s tonsils with my tongue, it would do. All of a sudden, the plastic part of the chair snapped right off its metal base and I, dressed head to toe in a bright green 1960s jumper, tumbled backwards onto the floor, just between the camera and Ms. Barrymore herself. Lorraine Bracco jumped out of her seat, James Woods’ eyes got wide, somewhere, someone yelled “hold the work!” and director Penny Marshall screamed as everyone rushed to my side. This was my moment! Everyone was fussing over me, making sure that I wasn’t hurt. I sat up on the floor, brushed my hair off my face, made my best doe-eyed, damsel in distress face, and looked up into Penny’s eyes, waiting for her to take this moment to “discover” me. It would be the moment I referenced in countless future profiles in Teen People, Cosmopolitan, and maybe even Vogue. I blinked my eyes and lifted my arm to be lifted to glory, and just in that moment, the producer stood up and announced to the silent and stunned room, “It’s just Richard’s daughter.” Penny breathed a sigh of relief, Drew went back to having her makeup retouched, Dr. Melfi sat back down, and somewhere, a grip probably farted. I shot the producer a dirty look and noticed my father, in the back corner, laughing at me.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. June 7, 2015 6:18 PM

    Very funny. You were quite the promiscuous one weren’t you?

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

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