I met another actor while doing some promo work. Well, where else are you going to meet actors? On set? Psshh. He said he'd done three indie films in Tucson and decided to come to LA. He said, "There's no better work, if you can get it." I noticed, of course, he didn't seem to like working much at all and rarely did anything until he was expressly told. Maybe that's a good thing for directors. I don't know. I thought he might not survive here, but I could be wrong.

Perhaps he was sick or feeling blue. Perhaps he doesn't do well in the heat. He seemed to me to be really actory already living the dream of having people cater to him. Sure, acting can be easy and, usually fun, but I don't really get the attitude. I met a seasoned, and apparently, heavily credited actor on some webisodes I was working on a while back. I couldn't tell you who he was from any wannabe on the street, but he definitely carried himself like he knew better. He knew better than the humble crew, knew better than the other actors, and even knew better than the director and producers. Apparently he didn't know enough to turn down what he clearly saw to be a two-bit operation. Yet everybody paved the way for him. They all seemed so grateful for him to be there. Except the art department. Apparently the woman dressing the set didn't have lavender plugs up her nose and could totally smell his bull.

Maybe that works. Maybe that's what I'm missing - a crappy attitude. God knows I can have one. Some of you reading this are probably thinking that right now. In fact, last week when I went to the set for the Japanese film, my inner diva came out for about five minutes. I was told to wait to be picked up in front of a hotel right in the thick of Hollywood. Every time I saw a Japanese man I thought, "Oh, this must be my ride." I forgot that the Japanese love Hollywood. And Disneyland. Needless to say, over half of the hotel's clientele was Japanese so I had to give up that game.

I knew something was wrong because the culture is also known to be rather prompt. I'd arrived fifteen minutes early and waited until about 9:15 AM before I decided to call. These guys called me first. "Amy? Where are you?" the young foreigner asked. "At the hotel." "Oh, no, no. You must make it to location," he says. Diva starts to rise. "Well, I don't know where that park is I don't have GPS. I don't have a map. And I don't have a smart phone so you need to figure out how to get me there." LA is a giant, giant piece of geography freckled with loads of little parks. We hung up and he called the agency who then called me with an apology for the confusion and the directions.

While driving, he called again. I can't afford to be pulled over for talking on the cell. Again, no smart phone. No hands-free. So I continued to drive knowing I was on my way. While I was stopped, he called again. I explained where I was and he seemed to be happy. When I arrived, however, he tried to mic pack me, makeup me, and give me a script to read all at once and told me I was needed on the set right now. Growl, diva, growl!

Needed on the set? Needed on the set? I just got here, and might I tell you it was NOT my error.

I brought how many outfits for you to look through and you don't even care?

How can I learn my lines while she's putting mascara on me?

Ok, I didn't say any of that, but for about three minutes in the insanity I took on second-grade teacher mode and told the mic-pack girl she would just have to wait. I took the mascara and finished the job. Then I told the AD that I wasn't finished with makeup, he needed to check my clothes, and that I didn't get a chance to look at lines so that's what he was getting on set.

Multiple people walked me down and said, "Improv, Improv." I heard, "It's ok. Don't worry about lines." I finally said, "I don't know what the scene is. I don't know who I am or where I am or for what purpose. I thought I was a deranged alcoholic and then yesterday I was told I was the upset wife of an alcoholic, but I have no idea why we're here at the park." The director didn't speak English so after translation, we went right to it. I was a deranged alcoholic, but I was such a heavy drinker you could hardly tell I was drunk. I had a vivid imagination, though. Three takes, each from a different angle, and I was done. Yes, acting is easy. Sometimes.

I apologized to everyone for the chaotic start, said "Domo" as much as I could, and even bowed to the director in respect. I was hardly there an hour and my check is coming soon. Getting to that one little job was no easy task, though. Will my new actor friend put in the time looking for the work? Maybe he's saving all of his energy for acting so he can maintain the often long hours one has to endure on set. Maybe he doesn't feel he needs to waste his energy elsewhere and I'm, in fact, missing something by carrying that hard work ethic everywhere. Maybe he's simply the only son in the family and has some entitlement thing. His new girlfriend IS fifteen years older and quite maternal. Don't expect that on set. I know one set designer who will not coddle you.