Thursday morning I was pretty easy going. Grabbed some breakfast, and hung out at Vanessa's, anxiously awaiting the mother of all pitch meetings...Disney! Talk about pressure. Go ahead, talk about it.
My meeting wasn't until 4:30, so I had plenty of time to obsess over my pitch, get really stressed out, and develop an upset stomach. Actually I was pretty chill about the whole thing, which is very unlike me. I guess my new mantra, "Seriously, what the fuck is your problem Gibbons?", is working.
I made my way from the OC to Burbank, stopping at Burger King for a Whopper, what can I say, I'm a foodie. The Disney Studios was really dawnting. I had to pinch myself as I drove through the front gate.
This is the place they shoot classic shows like, "That's so Raven". The thought of seeing Raven Symone alone gave be goose bumps.
I got my ID badge and parked. Unfortunately they gave me the wrong ID badge, so I walked back to the security kiosk. The security guy looked at it and said, "Dude, good catch." Nick Gibbons 1/Disney Security 0.
The pitch went as well as I expected. It was my first pitch there and now I have a much better idea of what they expect. With that under my belt I headed back to Ryan's place. Ryan and I decided to grab some dinner at the kick ass farmers market by his place. I grabbed some grub at a Cajun joint inside the farmers market. It was good, but unfortunately it will be making another appearance in this blog soon.
It was time to drink! We decided to just hang around the neighborhood, so of course the first stop was Studs Theater!
OK so maybe we didn't actually go inside. I couldn't figure out why the male porn stars just made indentions of their feet and hands. Maybe they didn't use their finger to write their names.
Ryan took me to a bar in attached to a deli. It smelled like pastrami, which isn't usually what I look for in a bar. Next up was a hipster Russian vodka bar. After a few vodka beverages my tummy starts to feel bad. It could've been all the stress from the week catching up to me, but I think it was the Cajun food.
I excused myself to the hipster Russian facilities and proceed to unleash the wrath of God on that tiny black and white tiled room. It was terrible! It was like my ass was being punished for something and it was planning on taking everyone else with it. I was in the stall for a while and there was no mistaking where the pungent bouquet was emitting. Several bar patrons outside my stall commented, but none more prolifically than the hipster that uttered, "This dude is single-handedly destroying the bathroom." I should have defended myself, but he was right.
After hosing off, I joined Ryan at the bar and we finished up. It was time to head back home and grab some sleep. I heard later that the health department had to condem that bathroom. Sorry about that Russian bar.
More trip to come...
1 comment:
who cares about hipster Russian duchebags. I say contaminate that bathroom. Serves them right for being Russian commies.
BTW, I experience that everyday! My wife believes there is a nuclear plant in my bowels expelling the toxic waste out my ass on a daily basis.
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