Yes, Excuse Me, I'm Very Important

There's some great feeling that comes with being important. Or people thinking you are, anyway. (Hey, it's the next best thing, right?)

Here I am, sitting across from a the real life version of Michel from Gilmore girls, in a building lobby of Beverly Hills, typing on my laptop as I open the door for people and check their names off of a list. I'm the mysterious person who looks important. My roommate is producing a movie, that hired me as the editor today, (woo?). They needed someone to let these actors in that are coming to audition for the part. It's not that I'm not being friendly, I am. It's just I have internet access and am bored out of my mind, so when I barely look at them, it's not because I'm being snotty, it's because I'm playing an intense game of Sudoku or reading some stories, or hey, writing a blog.

Now when these actors walk in, they look around like they are unsure of what to do next. That's when I speak up. I make sure they look at least a little confused before I do so, just to ensure they don't actually work in the building or something. When I ask them if they are here for the audition, they smile warmly towards me and gravitate my way.

Now, I believe in humanity for the most part. I'm sure that many of these people truly are interested in my day and hope that I'm doing well. But after while, all the niceness had me thinking. These people must think I'm powerful. They must think that I'm going to have some sort of say in their casting. Yesterday, I had multiple laughs at my not-so-funny jokes and one man called me a goddess for waving a piece of paper in front of a motion detector that would open the door for him to enter. Also for this motion, I was compared to the Fonze. For waving a piece of paper. (Let it be known I have stopped even looking at the door as I do this, let alone actually opening it for them.)

Maybe they feed off of each other. One person is nice, and everyone miscontrues it as me being very important. I've never had so many doors opened for me in my life. Some guy just gave me a rose. A rose.

So I'm not complaining here. I like feeling important. I don't mind that these people think I'm someone I'm not. Yes, I ask them their names, but I certainly am not marking down points for how many times they make me feel like a princess. Little do they know, I'm not all that important and will probably have nothing to do with the casting. For the better as it seems. ("He'd be perfect!" "Really? Why?" "Well he gave me a rose so....")

And then this woman walks in and I swear it's Sharon Osbourne. But I can't tell for sure and don't want to stare. And then she comes back and I look again. Still unsure, I decide that it had to of been her. It is only when this Michel wanna-be asks me if that was Sharon Osbourne do I feel like, yes, I saw my first celebrity in Los Angeles. He then mumbled something about her having an office here and I figure it had to be her! Woo! My first celebrity sighting and she was so nice! Or well, she smiled at me.

This casting thing has been an interesting experience. Just watching how the actors size each other up subtly. Looking at their competition. No one has even spoken to each other, this only being especially awkward early in the evening when the first four were told to wait in the lobby with me while they finished setting up. With two chairs and not a lot of room, it was quite a relief to finally get that phone call that said, "Send 'em up!"

Well I'm back to looking important. Only a little longer of this treatment and then I'm back to being unimportant minion walking the street.