Two phone calls today before I even got out of bed, during both of which Ben molested me unrelentingly and I had to fight to not burst out laughing when asked if I was okay.
The first was a cancellation for a shoot planned for October for a new album cover for Ben's friend of a friend of a friend. So, not the usual guys, but some of their friends, also in a band. Up and comers overseas. Took a look through the portfolio (AKA a Youtube playlist Ben sent up of the videos and an Amazon wishlist of albums LOL) and booked me but have since decided I am too old for what they're looking for.
Too old.
OLD.
Ben's friends said not to be alarmed, that their vision was more around me twenty years ago when I first did a video for Corey and I was in my early twenties. Please don't take it personally, Bridget.
I'm not. It's fine. I'm not, really.
Okay but I am. They sent flowers and champagne to the house an hour later to apologize for keeping me booked so long and then hosing. Dammit, champagne. I wonder if they'll let me bring it to the nursing home. I'm checking myself in this afternoon.
The second call was from Batman, who was speaking with Caleb and heard about the incredible knack I seem to have with charming men out of their money.
Ha.
Lemme just-
No, nevermind.
Caleb likes to do business over dinner and usually brings me with him so he can pretend he is successful. I am to behave. Vegas rules, as such. Only I seem to really appeal to his clients and they wind up offering so much money he is now in a unique and wonderful place where he has more capital than projects to invest in. Batman would like to turn the tables and see if I can't work my magic in reverse and find the companies that need seed investors. Have our pick, he says.
I wasn't aware my two titans were working together.
We're not. I know of some companies that need investors.
Bullshit, they're your companies if I'm a dollar over Thursday, I told him and hung up. I'm not going to be the bait in some new power struggle between them. I would like Batman to stay out of my head. Besides. I only charm the old men as a sport. I was as surprised as anyone else when they voiced their respect for my acumen.
Oh, I'm not arm candy, boys.
Maybe I was twenty years ago.
(Someone please bring up that champagne. Glass? No, I don't need a glass. Come downstairs? No, thanks, I'm staying in bed all day today. Why? Lost my youth. Could you look under the bed for me please? Maybe I dropped it last night after those two double cocktails.)
