My first day at SAG started out innocently enough. I leave the house an hour early, not to be tricked by the 15min estimate Google maps gives me for the commute. No one honks at me (score!) and I pull of the drive flawlessly except... I miss the street that the parking structure is supposed to be on. No matter. I turn down the next, make a series of three left turns, and assume I'm back on track.
Oh how mistaken I was! I do not know which of the parking structures on the street is the one I'm supposed to be in! I pull into one. No good. It requires a pass code of some kind. I gesture wildly to suggest to the lady that pulled in behind me that I need to reverse because, duh, I can't move forward. She looks angry, but backs out. I pull into the next lot. It has little cards for validation, but you need to pay $9 in cash up front. I have no cash. I have some change, but nothing like $9. TCF is a Midwestern bank, unfortunately, and I hadn't had the time to find an ATM or, better yet, to find a way around paying the charge that will come from a foreign withdrawal. So, once again, I cannot enter. I make a U-turn, park around the corner, on the side of the street in 2-hour parking, and resolve to do something, and soon, because, although I left the house an hour before I needed to be at the office, it took 45min, not 15. While walking toward the building, I notice a third and final parking structure at the end of the street, right in front of a building labelled SAG. There are arrows painted on the ground: SAG Visitor Parking. Great, I think, if I hadn't missed the turn, I would have pulled in here first! So I speed-walk to my car, the backs of my sensible flats leaving blisters on my heels--I had thought about wearing heels as so many of the girls I see walking around do, but decided I didn't want to trip and make a fool of myself. Instead, I end up limping all day because the backs of the shoes rub up against the raw blisters. Gross.
Anyway, I move my car, park it in the lot, and wait to be buzzed into the office. I have a little office, courtesy of the Senior Manager who took maternity leave on Friday, a desk and a computer. I got an ID badge with my picture on it--later, I learned that people with SAG badges often get harassed by the press who want to know about contract negotiations and such, so most people turn their badges so the white side faces out. L.A. is so cool. I read a lot of stuff about SAG's Affirmative Action and Diversity Division, go out to lunch with my supervisor... that sort of thing.
This weekend is the LA Film Festival, so SAG is hosting some events I'm going to. I'm going to a movie premiere! My supervisor told me I didn't have to get dressed up, but we ran into someone on the way out who was talking about heels and dresses.
"So, you're dressing up?" I ask.
"Yeah I am. You can never be overdressed. You don't know who's going to be there, who you're going to meet. You wanna look good!"
Right? This is L.A. people. We're not in Michigan anymore.
I walked to CVS, bought candy and then got cash back. Finally. Not having cash was driving me crazy. And I discovered a 7-11 nearby. Slurpees remind me of Emagine, my movie theater back home. I got a little homesick today, but my roommate gave me a hug. It was just what I needed.
This is going to be a good summer.
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