I had a very early pick up time from my hotel that next morning. If I remember right, Bart picked me up around 6:30 to drive me to Venice. Typically the girls coming into shoot for them were shooting only for them, so in another case he’d have to take me to the airport. But at that point, I was happy to be shooting for another magazine. And I was ready for another new and exciting experience. So we started our journey to Venice Beach, CA.
When we got there, it was far too early for even the “Early Check-In”. But Bart, being the stern, scary man that he was, convinced them that I needed my room RIGHT THEN or he’d be reporting to corporate. So guess what? There was a room after all. The hotel was so small with only 20 rooms. So I understood the problem. But I was happy to get into a room. The next person would pick me up at 9am, so I had little time to get my stuff together. But I work better when I’m on a time crunch, so it was no problem.
When he arrived, I met him in the lobby with my tiny bag of wardrobe. He looked at me and said.
“Are you sure you have everything? Most girls come with one or two giant bags full”
“And most girls aren’t coming from bum-fuck Oklahoma without a clue what they’re doing”
“You’d be surprised, honey. Let’s hit it!”
Ew. Honey? Never been called that by a John Leguizamo look-alike before.
Even when I look back on this today, all I can picture is him being John Leguizamo. I cannot remember what he actually looked like. It’s funny how the brain relates to unfamiliar situations.
We began our trip to the location, which was all the way up towards Simi Valley. Now that I understand more of LA, I do not get why they put me all the way down in Venice just to come all the way back up to where I already was. But whatever.
On the way there, he asked me all about my tits and why I got them. How big they were before and could he please see them now? Before everyone else. I was so absolutely freaked out by this guy. It wasn’t the questions he was asking- well… except for maybe the last- but it was the way he was asking. Like a nervous old man or something. I can say that I honestly wished I had been going to the airport that morning, but I held out hope that he was a rare creep among the crew. I really wanted this day to hurry and end.
The location was absolutely beautiful. The house was giant and decorated to the hilt. It was exactly how I’d imagined an LA home to be. I was in love. I walked through the house with my one small bag until I found the kitchen. There was a model there before me in the makeup chair. I couldn’t see her face because of the direction of her chair, but I could see that she had a huge rack by the side titty sticking out of her robe. I wondered if she got the same harassment I did from the creepy guy.
“Hi, honey. I’ll be with you when I’m done with her. Just put on your robe for me and relax”
Said the makeup artist.
“Oh. I don’t have a robe. I wasn’t told to bring one.”
“Well you shouldn’t have to be told. You’re a model. It’s common sense to bring one to shoots so you don’t have panty and bra marks all over your body. Just sit in the makeup chair naked, I guess.”
Well. She went from nice to cunt in no time, didn’t she?!
So I sat there naked. Waiting. Totally intimidated and self conscious about my body. The other girl was gorgeous, and a pro. I was not in the right place, it felt.
Come time for her to do my makeup, let’s just say I wasn’t all too thrilled to make small talk with this lady. But I could tell she was a chatter from her conversation with the other model. And nonetheless, she started asking me questions. And I thought to myself
She’s gonna feel like a real asshole when I tell her I’m just a contest winner and flew in from Oklahoma just for this.
Sure enough, when she got to the question “How long have you been doing this? Have we shot you before?” I got to tell her! And sure enough, it felt damn good.
“Oh! HAHA! No WONDER you didn’t bring everything you’re supposed to. I thought you were just another unprepared model. You know, no one takes this stuff seriously anymore.”
“Oh. Well. That’s a shame.”
I had this woman 4 inches from my face for about an hour, and it was the most uncomfortable hour. I kept thinking to myself how nice everyone back home is, no matter what. It’s like a different attitude back home. Not everyone is so dang defensive. I also kept thinking of how nice and comforting the last makeup girl was. Maybe this woman was just bitter. Who knows.
So I was done with make up (Thank the good LORD), and it was time for wardrobe. I showed the camera man what I had and he immediately sent me into their wardrobe room. I’d never seen so many dirty clothes before. And I’m not talking about someone needing to do the laundry. So many choices and only a few that were actually flattering on me. It was at that time that I decided maybe 8 silver bullets per night wasn’t the best diet for me. I had to work out, too.
All my photo sets were outside. It was January and I was melting in the sun, it felt. But really nothing like Oklahoma humidity. Everyone was very amused by my story, and we talked about it the whole time we were shooting. It made me feel good to talk about it. And it took my mind off of Cranky-Pants McGee the makeup girl. ALSO- it took my mind off of the other girl with the perfect bod and boobs that was shooting just behind me in the pool. The girl was Shay Laren, they later told me. Didn’t mean anything to me then, but it did later when I got more into the bizz and saw her again at another shoot. But that’s for another story.
The sets were a lot longer, and a lot more intricate then my first shoot. I was fully nude, and sticking fingers inside myself for several different poses. I was oddly fine with all that. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as that lady made me feel. And I was really liking the freedom and carelessness of it all. It also didn’t hurt that these guys were complimenting parts of my body that my husband never knew existed. Hell I never knew they existed.
When it was time for lunch, I was feeling really good. I was at ease, I felt that my pictures looked good, and I was getting along with everyone. We had pastas from a local restaurant delivered and we breaked for about an hour. The owner of the company, not the magazine, but the company hired to shoot the photos, came to eat lunch with us. He was nice. Critical, but nice.
When I was done with lunch, I had to get a touch up for my makeup. Then I sat by the pool and put my feet it. I was naked with only a towel around me. I was waiting for them to finish so we could pick out the next outfit. I had just laid back on my elbows and I hear…
“Oh my god! Get out of the sun. Are you kidding me? I just touched you up and your makeup is going to just melt right off!!”
I have had enough of this woman.
But I didn’t fire back the way I should’ve. I hate confrontation more than anything, so I just said
“Oh I’m really sorry. I never sweat, but I wasn’t aware that you used would come off that easily.”
And no matter what it took, for the rest of the day I would NOT talk to that woman. I’d never in my life been talked to by someone who didn’t even know me like that.
A few more sets later, it was time to go. Everyone had packed up and left, but I had to wait for the crew to finish up so they could take me all the way back to Venice. They complained the whole time about why they’d put me there instead of somewhere in the Valley. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stared at all the planes in the sky. I remember thinking to myself that I’d never seen so many planes in the sky at one time. And I also remember thinking that the next day I’d be on one to go home. And I was very relieved.