Flashback: Bloomington, IN 2006
I am sitting on a bus heading to a barn about thirty minutes off the campus of Indiana University. I'm sitting in the back of the bus with my date. We're drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. We will be approaching black out before we ever get off this bus. The occasion is a sorority semi-formal called Barn Dance. Almost all of the houses have them.
There is an ATO guy sitting in the seat in front of me. I think his date is giving him a hand job. Good for him. Good for her. Have I mentioned the dance hasn't even started yet?
There are a bunch of Betas sitting in the front. It's ironic that all those guys joined Beta because I'm sure a lot of guys would refer to them as beta. There are some Acacias behind me. They probably have coke. It will be four years before I discover hard drugs.
Directly across the aisle from me is one of my pledge brothers. I don't know what our 'thing' is. I asked a girl what our reputation was once and she said 'nice guys with girlfriends.' I hated it. I remember thinking at that exact moment that I would have to start being more of a dick.
There are a couple Delts there with stoner chicks and I think even a DU slipped in. Obviously no Lamda Chis were invited.
Fiji is in the front wearing impossibly preppy clothing. Phi Sig is up there too, shotgunning beers.
***
I think by the time the dance started I was hooking up with my date in the woods. I remember getting some poison ivy in precarious places. Obviously the bus stopped at Kilroy's on the way home and we all tried to get it. On this particular night, my Fake ID crapped out. My VIP friends couldn't even get me in. We're only 19, so I take a fair amount of the rejected minors back to my frat house for an after party.
Someone has spent the day building a potato cannon so we take it to the roof and start shooting shit at the house across the street. I accidentally shoot out a window. Someone drunkenly falls off the roof. Fortunately the courtyard is filled with sand at the moment because we had our Arabian Nights party the weekend before. This party would be cancelled 5 years later for being racially insensitive.
I end the night by taking my date back to my bedroom so we could hook up or whatever. Unfortunately mid thrust I hit my head on the ceiling and fall off my lofted bed. I am too drunk to scale to the top bunk so I just decide to crawl up to my futon and crash.
College.
Fast forward about a decade later.
I am sitting on a party bus heading to a winery about thirty minutes outside of Los Angeles. I'm sitting in the back of the bus with a girl. We're drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. We will be approaching black out before we ever get off this bus. The occasion is some bar crawl.
There is an WME guy sitting in the seat in front of me. I think his girlfriend is giving him a hand job. Good for him. Good for her. Have I mentioned we haven't even arrived at the bar crawl yet?
There are a bunch of ICM guys sitting in the front. I'm sure they're just happy to be here. There are some CAA kids behind me. They probably have coke. It will be four years before I discover hard drugs.
Directly across the aisle from me is one of my coworkers. We brought Four Loko, some people think it's cool, some people think we are the worst.
There are a couple Gersh guys there with stoner chicks and I think even a Paradigm slipped in. Obviously no one at APA was invited.
UTA is in the front wearing impossibly preppy clothing. Verve is up there too, shotgunning beers.
***
I think by the time the bar crawl started I was hooking up with my date on the beach. I remember stepping on a sea shell and getting it stuck in my foot. Obviously the bus stopped at Townhouse on the way home and we all tried to get it. On this particular night, I had lost my ID. My VIP friends couldn't even get me in. We're 29 so we obviously want to keep drinking. I lead a bunch of the people that were too drunk to get in to the bar back to my house in Venice for an after party.
I probably woke up the next morning without any pants passed out on the floor with my hand inside an empty box of Cheerios.
It's funny the way everything will always come back to college for me.
Although college is commonly associated as a microcosm of the real world, I think the social structures of the Greek system closely align with the entertainment industry in Los Angeles.
The similarities are striking:
-Both are subsets of a larger collection. Entertainment is just a piece of the population of LA, Greek Life is just a piece of the population of college students. So yes, the non-entertainment LA people are GDIs.
-There is a very clear ranking socially. Just like Tri Delts aren't hanging with ZBTs; 3 Arts kids aren't kicking it with the Innovative Artists crowd.
-There are very specific pledge class dynamics. People will always remember who they graduates the mailroom (pledgeship) with.
-You never lose your title. I live in Los Angeles now but I will always be 'one of those '09 Indiana Phi Psi guys.' Just like how my roommate isn't even in the industry anymore, but he'll always be part of the UTA crowd. UTA is his real life frat.
-Even the general rules of hooking up apply. It's probably only safe to hook up with one girl from every house/agency. Wouldn't want to start a turf war.
As I have progressed through life, I notice that things change yet always stay the same. LA, like college, is a game. Some people are good at it, some people get chewed up at spit out. Climbing the career to success is not too dissimilar from social climbing your way to popularity. Becoming an exec at a studio or being staffed as a writer on a show is the professional equivalent of getting invited to those hot sorority dances from undergrad.
Sometimes this whole industry can feel more cutthroat than the Game of Thrones, all you need to remember is that you've done this before. The next time you hear some catty assistant say, 'I hear that bitch's script sucked.' Remember it's possible there is a story behind that jealousy. Maybe once upon a time in the CAA mail room? Love triangle?
It's a fun game to pretend that we're growing up, but I find that the rules I played by when I was 19 are still pretty relevant. If you're fun to drink with and a generally cool dude, everything should work out in your favor.
Who knew that studying fraternity politics would come in so handy in the real world?
I laugh when I hear the phrase 'was he in your pledge class at WME?' It's like when you hear the NFL commentators talking about the 'football fraternity.' But for real...Los Angeles and the Greek system are basically the same.
There is an ATO guy sitting in the seat in front of me. I think his date is giving him a hand job. Good for him. Good for her. Have I mentioned the dance hasn't even started yet?
There are a bunch of Betas sitting in the front. It's ironic that all those guys joined Beta because I'm sure a lot of guys would refer to them as beta. There are some Acacias behind me. They probably have coke. It will be four years before I discover hard drugs.
Directly across the aisle from me is one of my pledge brothers. I don't know what our 'thing' is. I asked a girl what our reputation was once and she said 'nice guys with girlfriends.' I hated it. I remember thinking at that exact moment that I would have to start being more of a dick.
There are a couple Delts there with stoner chicks and I think even a DU slipped in. Obviously no Lamda Chis were invited.
Fiji is in the front wearing impossibly preppy clothing. Phi Sig is up there too, shotgunning beers.
***
I think by the time the dance started I was hooking up with my date in the woods. I remember getting some poison ivy in precarious places. Obviously the bus stopped at Kilroy's on the way home and we all tried to get it. On this particular night, my Fake ID crapped out. My VIP friends couldn't even get me in. We're only 19, so I take a fair amount of the rejected minors back to my frat house for an after party.
Someone has spent the day building a potato cannon so we take it to the roof and start shooting shit at the house across the street. I accidentally shoot out a window. Someone drunkenly falls off the roof. Fortunately the courtyard is filled with sand at the moment because we had our Arabian Nights party the weekend before. This party would be cancelled 5 years later for being racially insensitive.
I end the night by taking my date back to my bedroom so we could hook up or whatever. Unfortunately mid thrust I hit my head on the ceiling and fall off my lofted bed. I am too drunk to scale to the top bunk so I just decide to crawl up to my futon and crash.
College.
Fast forward about a decade later.
I am sitting on a party bus heading to a winery about thirty minutes outside of Los Angeles. I'm sitting in the back of the bus with a girl. We're drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. We will be approaching black out before we ever get off this bus. The occasion is some bar crawl.
There is an WME guy sitting in the seat in front of me. I think his girlfriend is giving him a hand job. Good for him. Good for her. Have I mentioned we haven't even arrived at the bar crawl yet?
There are a bunch of ICM guys sitting in the front. I'm sure they're just happy to be here. There are some CAA kids behind me. They probably have coke. It will be four years before I discover hard drugs.
Directly across the aisle from me is one of my coworkers. We brought Four Loko, some people think it's cool, some people think we are the worst.
There are a couple Gersh guys there with stoner chicks and I think even a Paradigm slipped in. Obviously no one at APA was invited.
UTA is in the front wearing impossibly preppy clothing. Verve is up there too, shotgunning beers.
***
I think by the time the bar crawl started I was hooking up with my date on the beach. I remember stepping on a sea shell and getting it stuck in my foot. Obviously the bus stopped at Townhouse on the way home and we all tried to get it. On this particular night, I had lost my ID. My VIP friends couldn't even get me in. We're 29 so we obviously want to keep drinking. I lead a bunch of the people that were too drunk to get in to the bar back to my house in Venice for an after party.
I probably woke up the next morning without any pants passed out on the floor with my hand inside an empty box of Cheerios.
It's funny the way everything will always come back to college for me.
Although college is commonly associated as a microcosm of the real world, I think the social structures of the Greek system closely align with the entertainment industry in Los Angeles.
The similarities are striking:
-Both are subsets of a larger collection. Entertainment is just a piece of the population of LA, Greek Life is just a piece of the population of college students. So yes, the non-entertainment LA people are GDIs.
-There is a very clear ranking socially. Just like Tri Delts aren't hanging with ZBTs; 3 Arts kids aren't kicking it with the Innovative Artists crowd.
-There are very specific pledge class dynamics. People will always remember who they graduates the mailroom (pledgeship) with.
-You never lose your title. I live in Los Angeles now but I will always be 'one of those '09 Indiana Phi Psi guys.' Just like how my roommate isn't even in the industry anymore, but he'll always be part of the UTA crowd. UTA is his real life frat.
-Even the general rules of hooking up apply. It's probably only safe to hook up with one girl from every house/agency. Wouldn't want to start a turf war.
As I have progressed through life, I notice that things change yet always stay the same. LA, like college, is a game. Some people are good at it, some people get chewed up at spit out. Climbing the career to success is not too dissimilar from social climbing your way to popularity. Becoming an exec at a studio or being staffed as a writer on a show is the professional equivalent of getting invited to those hot sorority dances from undergrad.
Sometimes this whole industry can feel more cutthroat than the Game of Thrones, all you need to remember is that you've done this before. The next time you hear some catty assistant say, 'I hear that bitch's script sucked.' Remember it's possible there is a story behind that jealousy. Maybe once upon a time in the CAA mail room? Love triangle?
It's a fun game to pretend that we're growing up, but I find that the rules I played by when I was 19 are still pretty relevant. If you're fun to drink with and a generally cool dude, everything should work out in your favor.
Who knew that studying fraternity politics would come in so handy in the real world?
I laugh when I hear the phrase 'was he in your pledge class at WME?' It's like when you hear the NFL commentators talking about the 'football fraternity.' But for real...Los Angeles and the Greek system are basically the same.
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