Truth in Advertising Page 0,8
It just looks exciting. Like the circus. Or a strip club. So I’ve heard.”
Phoebe says, “I want to meet Gwyneth. I think we could be friends.”
“I’m hanging up.”
Phoebe says, “Say something nice.”
I say, “You’re prettier than she is.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’m not kidding.”
And she knows from the tone of my voice I mean it.
Three or four long seconds. Never awkward, though. Not with her.
Phoebe says, “Call me later, okay?”
Her text arrives. Edward’s number.
Did I mention that I have family? Eddie’s the oldest and for years acted that way. Maura left a job in finance to raise her kids. They’re both up in Boston. At least they were the last time we spoke. Kevin is in San Francisco. If Ian’s the gay brother I never had, Kevin would be the gay brother I actually have. Some families grow closer. Others are Irish.
I delete the text.
A twenty-five-ish production assistant jogs up to Ian, Pam, and me.
She says, sternly, “Raphael wants to roll immediately.”
Pam says, “We’ll be two minutes.”
The PA says, “Umm, he said to tell you he wants to roll immediately.”
I wince and see Ian do the same.
Pam’s face breaks into a big smile. “What’s your name?”
The PA says, “Saffron.”
Pam says, “Saffron. Wow. I’m going to guess southern California or, wait, Boulder.”
Saffron says, “Boulder. That’s amazing!”
Pam says, “I want you to listen to me, okay? There are two things I know to be true. One is that there’s no difference between good flan and bad flan. What movie is that from?”
Saffron stares at Pam, clueless, only now sensing, perhaps, that she’s made a terrible mistake.
Pam says, “Disappointed. Wag the Dog. Classic Mamet line. Not sure what you’re doing in this business if you don’t love film. Two, we roll when I say we roll. And if dick-breath has a problem with that you have him come see me because this is my show. Okay?”
Saffron is wide-eyed and stunned and scared and nodding slowly.
Pam says, “One more thing. I don’t like your name. So I’m going to call you Barbara for the rest of the shoot. Now go away and tell Raphael to learn what an F-stop is.”
Saffron scurries away.
Another woman walks up to Pam and has what appears to be a massive amount of baby spit-up on her shirt.
Ian says, “I have bad news for you about your blouse.”
Pam says, “Who are you?”
The woman says, “The baby wrangler. We have a problem.”
Ian says, “We got that part.”
The woman says, “The baby’s puking like crazy.”
Pam says, “What about the backup baby? So far we’ve only shot this one from behind.”
“Yeah, I know,” the wrangler says. “But there was a bit of a screwup and the casting agency sent . . . they sent a black baby.”
I say, “Chris Martin is not going to like this.”
Pam doesn’t blink twice. She takes out her cell phone and calls the casting agency. Into the phone she says, “It’s Pam Marston for Sandy.” Away from the phone: “Barbara!” Saffron comes running, wide-eyed, an eager, terrified little Marine ready to follow Pam’s orders into battle.
Alan and Jill, our account execs, finally reappear.
Alan says skittishly, “You want the good news or the bad news?”
No one says anything.
Alan says, “Okay, that’s good because there is no good news. So I’ll move right to the bad. We’re using the wrong diapers.”
Pam stares at Alan in a way that could not be mistaken for friendly.
Alan says, “These diapers are for infants. We need the Diaper Pants for toddlers.”
Ian covers his face. I look to the ceiling, in hopes of a ladder being lowered from a waiting helicopter.
Pam says, “We’ve been shooting since 7:46 A.M. It’s 11:32. Do you know how much film we’ve shot?”
Alan says, “A lot?”
“A lot, Alan? We’re shooting thirty-five-millimeter film, haircut. One-thousand-foot mags. Eleven minutes a mag. Two dollars a foot to process. That doesn’t include transferring or color correcting. We’ve blown through eight mags so far today. That’s eight thousand feet of film that’s useless.”
Alan says, “I missed a lot of that.”
Pam says, “Try this. The client just spent thirty-six thousand dollars on nothing.”
Alan says, “That’s very bad.”
Pam says, “Wait. Are the diapers we’ve been using that much different? How different-looking can diapers be?”
Jill says, “Dramatically different, Pam. That’s the Snugglies touch.”
Pam says, “Jill. Say another word and I will drown you in a toilet.”
Pam puts the phone to her ear. “Sandy. Pam. I have a black baby.”
A woman approaches, one of Gwyneth’s assistants.
“That’s so beautiful,” the assistant says. “I wish more people would break down the color barrier. Are