I decided early on that I would not seek the agency route, but that left me with no idea of what to do next. As my internships wrapped up and my funds started to dwindle, and as I realized that my contacts at the former weren’t able to remedy the latter, I set about to discover an alternate plan.
I needed a job, that was clear, but I needed not to work, so I could write. I wracked my brain for ideas. What job required few hours but provided many dollars? The obvious answer, of course, is dancing naked for money. But I wasn’t quite sure I had that particular skill set, and decided to try other, less naked options.
The next obvious choice is waitressing. Everyone has waited tables at some point in their career. Everyone except for me. I have hosted at a couple restaurants, and I have worked counter service at a couple bakeries. But I have never actually waited tables. I am not qualified to do a job that everyone else in the world learned to do in high school or college. I try not to let this bother me.
I pondered getting a job at a restaurant that really doesn’t care about experience. Like Shakey’s. Then I could work my way up to the nice restaurants with the real tablecloths and the fat tips. Except that working my way up in the table-waiting world sounded incredibly depressing. As does Shakey's.
I know what you’re thinking. It has crossed my mind, too. It’s probably easier to get hired to dance naked for fat tips than it is to get hired to serve expensive food. I hear you, friend, but I’m still thinking I like my employment a little less bare-chested.
It occurred to me that I could apply for hosting positions in nicer establishments, then work up to waiting tables. I had some experience, which I thought would help.
Nope. There are a few things that help when it comes to finding a hostessing job. Knowing the guy who is doing the hiring is a bit of a leg up. After all, we’re still talking about Hollywood and the surrounding area, and it’s all about networking.
A friend of mine knew that a friend of hers had recently opened a restaurant, and I knew she’d give me a good recommendation if I got an interview. So I decided to check it out. I called the restaurant to inquire about a position. The manager on the phone asked me if I spoke only Seoul or Pyongan as well. After a few moments of perplexed silence, he gathered that I spoke not at all, and asked if I was still on the phone. I managed a “huh?” and he replied that speaking fluent Korean was required of all his staff.
Not to worry. If you don’t know the hiring manager, or even if you have a connection but don’t speak several dialects of a foreign language, you can still land an $8/hour hostess position at a Hollywood restaurant or lounge if you are devastatingly beautiful. Again, merely pretty will not cut the mustard. Your beauty must be so blinding that a haughty smile alone could convince the clientele that they are absurdly fortunate to even gain entrance to the establishment, much less find themselves so blessed as to have their hard-earned plastic accepted in exchange for weak drinks and microwaved hors d’oeuvres.
This is, yet again, something I learned first hand. For example. I applied to one high-end establishment that was still under construction and waited while the manager spoke to someone on the phone. While I waited, a younger, thinner, blonder girl walked right past me and handed her resume and head shot to the manager. Then she sauntered over to someone else working behind the bar and they started chatting about all their mutual friends. I continued to wait calmly, but what was going on in my head was not calm. “HEAD SHOT? You can’t be serious!” and, “I’m screwed anyway, that girl knows him! Crap.” When I handed over my resume, I got, “no head shot?” in return.
Head shots, from what I understand, are absurdly expensive. Even the crappy ones cost an arm, and as I’ve already told you, a number of my limbs are still in hock for my internships. I was asking for a crap job that wasn’t even the crap job that I really wanted, and I was expected to purchase head shots and have the devastatingly beautiful face to put inside the expensive photograph. That, or speak Korean.
I couldn't waitress.
I couldn't hostess.
And I didn't really have the skill set for dancing naked.
What to do? What to do? Luckily for me, awards season was gearing up.
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