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Yesterday I pissed someone off so much he took a swing at me!
Scenario:
(one caveat: this is a non-union independent film-shoot. If it were a Union show there's no way in HELL I'd pull this kind of shit, particularly with Teamsters)
The transport coordinator on the show I'm shooting is a complete moran. He's in his mid thirties, dresses like a low-rent Eminem (baggy painter bants, dooky gold chains, sideways caps, and all the bling), and drives a lowered H2 with bling-bling chrome rims and all the glue-on crapola. And an obnoxious stereo with, I suspect, sixty or so subwoofers.
We're shooting some scenes on a hilltop mansion in a very posh section of Victoria. There's very little room for vehicles, and the driveway is long and twisty (and only wide enough for one vehicle direction).
At the beginning of the work day, the idiot Transport Coordinator parks two "picture vehicles" (a cop car and a Jaguar) at the top of the hill. They are to play in one exterior shot later in the day.
Because of where idiot parked the picture vehicles, not one of the other departments can access the set and unload their equipment. The Grip department gets on the radio and asks him to move the picture cars.
No response.
The Grip, Electric, and Camera Departments have been called in early just to unload. They've had an hour less sleep, just to start this early. And this fucking asshole is impeding their work.
I get on the radio and tell him to move the picture cars.
"I'll be there in a minute", he says, "I'm really busy..."
I wait.
A minute or so goes by, and I walk around the corner. There's idiot eating a breakfast burrito.
Unseen, I walk back to the picture cars. I call idiot on the radio, and tell him (third time) to move the picture cars.
"I'm busy. I'm coming to see you in a minute."
I say "there's nothing to see me about, unless it's to salute. Move the fucking cars not or I'll move them for you".
No response.
So I get in one of the cars and drive it down the hill. In the rearview mirror, I see idiot waving his arms and screaming like a lunatic in front of about 20 crew members.
I park the cop car on the street, and begin to walk back up the driveway.
Idiot has run the length of the driveway and is sprinting toward me.
"If you ever, ever touch one of my picture cars again, I'll fuck you up!", he says.
I ask him if he's threatening me, and he says "you goddamn right I am".
Unfortunately, there's nobody but the two of us at the base of the driveway, so I can't have him fired (and charged) for threatening someone.
I say that he needs to go for a walk, and to call me when he's calmed down.
He's practically hyperventilating at this point, although I can't tell if it's from the run or from rage (or both!).
He continues to rant and rave about this and that, blah blah blah.
So I say to him "did you run down here to tell me all that?"
He says yes.
I say "you should have taken the Jag. Now I have to walk all the way up and drive it down here, too".
And this guy, this pasty-white adult who dresses like a 16 year old, goes completely insane. Whips his Blackberry on the ground (it shatters), pulls of his FuBu parka, and swings at me!
I duck out of his reach, and he kind of spins on his heels and just screams "FUCKFUCKFUCK!"
I tell him to go and sulk in his compensator, and I walk up the hill, alone.
I haven't seen him since. I think he went back to Vancouver :)
I get a call from the line producer today, asking what happened between me and the transport coordinator (they're friends, of course). He's hoppin' mad, and looking for a fight. I tell him what happened, and I punctuate it by saying, "and if he does it again, I'm going to get back in the car and drive it down the hill again".
Because, you see, the LP is a moran, too. He is the most "penny wise/pound foolish" individual I have ever met, and the reason he's hired this transport coordinator (besides the kickbacks he's no-doubt receiving for renting the TC's equipment) is because he's cheap.
And the reason he's cheap is because he's stupid, inefficent, obnoxious, antisocial, and, as previously stated, a half-wit.
Which explains why this is the only producer in BC who will give this transport coordinator a job.
It's obvious that the LP called me to give me an earful and jack-off to my heartfelt apology.
But he gets nothing from me but absolution: "That guy is a fucking half-wit, and he's wasting your time and money. If you can't see that, you must be the other half-wit. I'm telling you now, that if he or anyone in his department pulls this shit again, I will ban them all from the set."
I get a long pause, and then "....okay, then." (click).
The LP is no longer talking to me, but I still have my job, and now I have a whole collection of back-slapping cameraderie from the rest of the crew, to boot.
It's amazing what you can get away with when you just don't give a shit if you ever work for a particular person again.
I.
RULE.
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