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| Yes, they exist. You're welcome. |
I would like to first congratulate you for making it this far in your career. Many people will wash out of Los Angeles long before they are afforded a studio bought meal. Many aspiring set costumers are getting engaged to some guy from high school back in the midwest right now, putting on their "meh" engagement ring and preparing for a fruitful career in the buying office of LS Ayres. They got stuck in reality and never made it to a scripted show. I never bought them lunch.
But you made it. Somehow you backdoored it into a labor union, and through a great stroke of luck, you now have a steady gig on a semi-successful episodic drama on its 11th season. Life is good, you may clear six figures this year. You might be able to afford that one bedroom in Atwater Village you've been checking out, good for you!
Now, I realize that it is tacky to stand up here and shout about apathy. Zero fucks might be a great way to live your life, but shouting "LIGAF" is no way to win an argument, so I thought I would take a more subtle approach and share anecdotes from my personal experience to connect with my reader.
I am and have long been a picky eater. You may or may not know the long history of my psycho somatic aversion to chocolate (I claim to be allergic, but this has never been proven) there is a lot of shit I don't like, even some stuff I'm not sure I don't like because I am afraid to even try it. I feel your pain.
However, when I would go to a birthday party growing up...be it at a USA Skate, Woodland Bowl, Discovery Zone, I did not make this my host's problem. Nay, I would try in earnest to skate backward, see how many times I could bounce the balls off the bumpers and still get a strike and ruin my opponents in the ball pit...but when it came time for cake? I just wouldn't eat.
I wouldn't say, "Hey Mikey...happy 9th, but next year let's get some Vanilla cupcakes involved."
No, I just fucking sat there and took it, because I realized my picky eating was a ME problem. On slumber parties, I would pack a thing of Lunchables, in case the pizza got too exotic that night (anything other than plain cheese) and if there was a social outing to a sushi restaurant, I would just not go (or more likely go and just drink...but I like sushi now, just so we're clear)
Now to be honest, I don't blame you for coming up to me every day and asking for more gluten free fare. I understand that you really deep down believe that veganism is a diet that makes you feel better. I get it DAIRY IS EATING ME ALIVE inside, and I should abandon all dairy now... I get it, I really do.
My question is...how the fuck are you still alive? Clearly Los Angeles is a town of Godless atheists, so clearly you all believe in science...and science teaches me Darwinism. For those of you unfamiliar, Charles Darwin preached 'natural selection' a fancy term known colloquially as 'survival of the fittest.'
To those of you that get a tummy ache when you eat bread, you are the sickly antelope that is eaten by the lion. You are the right fielder on the little league team that bats 11th and gets a participation trophy at the end of the season after your team goes 2-12.
I would think that surely, you captains of industry have evolved into a species of humans with strong digestive systems. If the cream does indeed rise to the top, that is. Honestly, if I had Celiacs I would be embarrassed, seriously, I would view it as a personal failing...no different that crippling acne or chronic ED, the inability to process a McDonalds Big Mac is a YOU problem.
Seriously, the right to a pleasant bowel movement is not one of the unalienable rights guaranteed to you in the Declaration of Independence, sometimes you just tough it out. BUT IF, you want to live with this dark secret, like a victim of Derek Jeter's herpes, I have a solution for you...go get your own food.
Go to Lemonade, get yourself 6 full fucking portions of kale, maybe go a little crazy and get yourself an Arnold Palmer at check out. You deserve it!
What you should NOT do, is go to me, the lowly PA and ask me to make sure I get the LIGHT honey almond cream cheese from Noah's Bagels...because like you view me as a low priority in your life, I miraculously feel the same way.
A few sample things I take more seriously than your dietary needs...
-My fantasy team
-Ways to sneak Viagara back into the USA after visiting Tijuana
-Whether or not to masturbate that evening
-The current situation with ISIS
-The plight of a third wave feminist
-Which coworker I should have sex with this time (a low maintenance one!)
-The solution to the Hodge conjecture
But lest you think I do not take the job of feeding 25 people very seriously, I do! I promise I will try to put together a nutritious and filling meal every day at a budget of $300. I will provide a variety in food groups and ethnic flavor. The last thing I want is for all of my coworkers to be fat and out of shape, that would make me depressed. At the same time I don't want you to be lethargic, that would lead to longer shooting days! I want the best for you! I want the best for US.
It's just you know, I can't please everyone all the time. I would LOVE to have Chick Fil A every day, but their CEO said some shit and now the gays have been brainwashed to hate it (even though 92% of Chick Fil A stores are independently owned and operated.) I would LOVE to go down to Orange County and pick up Portillo's for everyone...it's just you know, that time spent in traffic would significantly cut into the time I have to flirt with chicks on Gchat.
So let's make a deal. We're both here, biding our time until the next better thing comes along right? You're just a 2nd AC who wants to direct a feature some day and I'm an office PA who is using all of my down time at work to write coming of age stories about flawed white characters trying to figure everything out. You leave the food decisions up to me and I promise to keep the fridge stocked with Sriracha and Lawry's at all times. Hell I'll even order your department an extra whiteboard so you can take it home and outline your next project...our little secret.
Until then, shut the fuck up about the quality of your free food.
Best,
Dave
P.S. We aren't making high art here guys, it's network television. Let's gun for 6pm wraps, everyday. You have an ex-wife and kids, I have an alcohol addiction, let's focus on what's important.
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