The Film Festival opens today. This is terribly exciting, as it begins with the Opening Night Gala. My boss, Keith, has promised to bust a move on the dancefloor, prompting yesterday's quote of the day, "It's gonna be KiKi on the dancefloor, yo."
The first volunteer doesn't need to show up anywhere until 6 today, yet for some reason, I've got to be there at noon. I do get a snazzy and exclusive staff badge, which gets me into everything without a ticket, thus I refuse to complain. I'm going to be like Wayne and Garth, holding up my pass to get into the VIP events or the Happy Hour tent. (Yep. There's a Happy Hour tent.)
I'm actually really excited for this to start, as it'll be 10 days of Hollywood North, celebrities, and open bars. If Johnny Depp shows, I'll shit my pants. This is going to be fun.
We do have some insane volunteers, which always makes work interesting. Yesterday, I returned from lunch at the Depot, to find some idiot and her dog sitting at my desk. I walk into our office, she looks up, and says, "You can sit in that chair in the corner. I'm going to be a few minutes."
Well, you know what? That's MY desk and MY computer and MY phone ringing, so why don't you go sit in the fucking corner, and take your mutt with you.
Actually, I said, "I'm Beth. Can I help you with something?"
"Oh." She says, without looking up. "I guess you want your chair back."
"Yeah. I do. Really just because I should grab the phone."
She gets up, walks to the corner chair, and resumes filling out her Volunteer Application. After my call, she looks up, sees my staff badge hanging on my cork board and says, "Are you related to Dick?"
"Yes, I am. He's my dad."
"Oh god. Well, I read his column and sometimes he's way off base. He doesn't know what he's talking about."
How nice. Guess who's getting reassigned to manning the Port-o-Potty area...