Van Dammit
This week I'm PAing for Veruca Zapp.She is a funny bird from London by way of New York.
Veruca had me pick up a big passenger van from Movie Movies.
A harried guy named Bevan answered the door.
He looked at me with closed eyes.
A perpetually nervous blink.
"That van's not ready!"
He threw up his hands.
He sighed.
He paced.
"I thought you were picking up the equipment van. That one's ready!"
He directed his stress toward me.
"Goddammit!"
I stayed calm.
Because I didn't care.
We walked over to the passenger van.
The driver's side was caved in from some sort of collision.
An incredibly patchy gloop of unpainted bondo had been carelessly smeared into the valley.
The van was ugly.
I called Veruca just to let her know.
"Oh deauh!"
She seemed annoyed.
"Sew it's all oogly, is it?"
But she quickly got over it.
"Bevan hates me 'cos I keep chaingin' stoof up on 'im."
Jerzy
The PA I would be working with was Jerzy.
"So are you a whore, too?" he asked.
He was in his 40's.
We talked shop in the van.
He mostly worked as a grip.
But things were slow.
He gave me advice.
I listened and nodded and drove.
Show Fur
At the hotel, we picked up Veruca, the DP Adam, and the location scout Chaz.
"To city hall," Chaz instructed.
All I knew is that we were scouting locations today.
For what or whom or why I didn't know.
"To the planetarium!"
My years and years of driving trolleys, bike messengering and vehicular messengering paid off.
I took the shortest yet most scenic routes.
I know this city like a frogman knows the bends.
Painfully well.
Chaz boasted hyperbolically to Veruca and Adam about spots to eat in Chicago.
The words "the best" were used 314 times.
Veruca wanted deep dish pizza.
Deep dish pizza is not the best.
But it's what people think of when they think Chicago.
Al Capone eating deep dish pizza while the Blues Brothers play "Sweet Home Chicago".
What about our more recent accomplishments?
Like Michael Jordan.
Or the '85 Bears.
"To the Stevenson Expressway!"
As we drove, the mystery of what we were doing slowly unravelled.
We were going to film promos for the local news anchors.
They would be captured doing real people activities.
Like hanging out on the expressway.
Trying to secure a spot to shoot on the Stevenson was hard.
We found a few overpasses but they were occupied by homeless guys and merchants.
I pointed to a guy with a cooler.
"This spot has its own craft service."
It got a laugh.
Real Creme
It was time for lunch.
Now Veruca wanted hot dogs.
She explained that in London, crews don't get a big lunch.
They have tea and crumpets.
Jerzy seemed to take this personally.
"Fuck that," he would later say.
He didn't like England.
While in line at the drive-thru, Veruca had lots of questions about hot dogs and Italian beef sandwiches and Italian sausage sandwiches.
"It ain't no tea and crumpets," Jerzy said.
"Jehzy, have you eveh had a propuh croompet? Have you eveh had reaol creme? Doan't put it down if you doan't knoaw whut yeh tauking about."
Jerzy ordered a combo.
The Dream Van
Then Jerzy, Adam and I went down to Movie Movies to pick up the equipment van.
Bevan opened up a gate in the alley.
It was an old cargo van from a few decades prior.
It had a tall, bubbled roof.
I was going to get to drive it.
Dreams do come true.
Jerzy's Communication Techniques
While driving the dream van, Jerzy called me.
"Are you turning around yet?"
Hi Jerzy.
"What?"
"I said, are you turning around yet?"
Am I turning around yet?
No.
He wanted me to turn around.
Why, I didn't know.
Was something wrong with the van?
Did some equipment fall onto the street?
Is the dream van really a nightmare van?
I countered his question with a question that I had quickly prepared.
"What do you mean?"
"You left your bag behind."
Ohhhh.
Okay.
So he was calling to tell me that I had left my bag behind.
But the order in which he revealed this information was fun.
He didn't say, "Hey Tony, it's Jerzy. You left your bag behind."
Instead, he skipped salutations altogether for a sentence designed to put me in a state of panic.
"Are you turning around yet?"
You see, Jerzy had some information for me.
But he wanted to see me dance for it.
Too bad I'm not much of a dancer.
In theory I should have promptly answered his query about turning around.
It's a simple yes or no question.
But his fun method merely caused confusion, and ultimately led to more time being consumed.
"Okay, thanks, Jerzy. I'm turning around then."
Wow.
That was a lot of fun.
Look at all that time we spent on that fun game.
I wonder if Jerzy used to work for the city.
Where Do Vans Dream?
I had to find somewhere to park the dream van.
It couldn't live on the street overnight, full of shabby but expensive rented gear.
But its sexy bubbled roof made it too tall for the indoor parking garages.
Veruca wanted the van to be near where I live.
There were no secure overnight parking garages near where I live.
I called Holli, who referred me to a stage lot on the west side.
But they were closed.
I called Veruca.
"Maybe I can park the van by me and just unload the gear into my apartment."
"Toany, the van must stay in a secu(r)e pahking loat. Eet must!"
I pulled over to think.
I was in the Gold Coast.
On my left was an outdoor parking garage.
That was it.
I would just ride my bike here tomorrow.
Real Cream
I got home in time for another fabulous Lauren-made dinner.
Roasted red pepper soup with corn cilantro cream.
It was real cream.
Verdict: Win
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