Johnny goes to Hollywood
Many people read my bio in "InSiDer" last year and told me "Johnny, you're so full of crap. If you're so inspired by 'Color of $,' why didn't you pursue your dream but decided to sit in front of computers all day?" That's a very good question. I admit that Tom Cruise and I have a lot in common: we're both slightly under 6'; both of our 9-ball games involve certain # of weaknesses (in the sense that a Pentium Pro involves certain # of transistors), and both of us think Nicole is a babe. The truth is I had thought about a career in acting and actually did something about it.It was during OJ's criminal trial when I worked in Cedars-Sinai (the hospital where Michael Jackson's wife's son was born) as a research biostatistician. A co-worker handed me a little ad when he came back from lunch. You can often find such ad on many telephone poles in LA:
MOVIE EXTRAS AND TEMPORARY ACTORS NEEDED
no experience needed, good money...,
call 555-4088 9am - 5pm
Out of curiosity, I dial the #, and before I can say anything other than "I'm responding to your posting near Beverly Center," the operator cut me off and set me up for an appointment for the next day, and before I could ask any question (I wanted to make sure this had nothing to do w/ 1-900 # telephone services), she hung up. She was a pro! no experience needed, good money...,
call 555-4088 9am - 5pm
I went to the company on Sunset next day. They made me fill out an application in the waiting room. According to my answers on the application I was an athletic, tall, young and tremendously good-looking kong-fu master who spoke 5 languages and could joggle chain saws. I was tempted to also check the box in front of unicycle, but I didn't want to sound immodest. I actually enjoyed the waiting in the room; that day they were looking for a Gloria Estephan look-alike and a 6' transvestite. I found the conversation interesting, even though I didn't think I had much chance of getting either part (I didn't speak Spanish and was only "almost" 6'). The big debate was about the most qualified transvestite: he didn't want to wear garter belts.
I never got to find out if they went for Mr. No-Garter-Belt or the 2nd choice who was more hairy but sounded willing to do anything (what a disturbing thought). I was invited into the interview room by Ms. La Joy (Am I the only one who hasn't seen the name "La Joy" before?). She was being extremely nice; she seemed genuinely concerned about my acting career and well-being in general. She didn't even get turned off when I told her the reason I was there: "Just for the heck of it; a friend passed that telephone pole one too many time." I started getting suspicious when she told me "Oh, good! We never have enough Asian guys; there are always parts for Asian guys" (keep in mind this is LA). I decided to test how far she would go in kissing up to me--I told her every bad OJ jokes I could think of (yes, including knock knock and the OJ's internet address), and--sure enough--she laughed at them all. I had stupendous respect for this woman by now. I finally realized what it takes to make it in the real world; at that moment I thought maybe I deserved to work in the smelly basement cubical after all. She seemed so interested in signing me as a client that she even offered a free (another fishy word) one-day acting lesson.
After patiently listening to my opinion re. Microsoft products and new discovery associated w/ the Hubble pictures (I ran out of OJ jokes. I was also gonna tell her how disappointed I was w/ the latest Douglas Adams book, but I didn't put enough quarters in the parking meter), she carefully explained how great her company was and how many parts they had gotten their clients. She made me promise I would try very very hard to be a good actor 'cause "you would represent our company." Then she told me they never asked for commissions; they charge a flat fee: $139/yr! Out front!!! For some reason she didn't seem pleased when I suddenly fell off the chair and started laughing uncontrollably while banging the floor. Sigh, some people just don't have sense of humor.
I finally got hold of myself and put my butt back in the chair. Being a reasonable person, I proved to her mathematically that I would be a member of SPESB (Society of People w/ Extremely Small Brain) to pay such a fee. In order to show my sincerity, I offered her a 51% commission. That was the time I got kicked out of the office to make room for a Darrell Strawberry look-alike in oil stained Firestone uniform. It was good timing because I made it back to my car just as the little red flag in the meter popped back up.
I'm not making this up. If you don't believe me, just call 213/657-8457 and tell them you look exactly like Tom Cruise in "Color of $" and you want to marry Nicole. Ask for La Joy. And if you're a 6' non-hairy male, just show up at 8833 Sunset Blvd., Suite 308. Dress appropriately.
