...Don't even putt!
Oh Lordy I really should know better. I return home late afternoon after a long and boozey lunch with a friend. I close one eye and after two attempts manage to dial 1571 to retrieve my voice mail. Ah ! A nice belated Happy new year from a producer.
Now that is when the little voice inside my head should have said ' Fine, call her back tomorrow when it doesn't sound like you've just had a stroke'
But no. My little voice, who I like to call 'Kamikaze Ken' said ' Oh yesh, she'ss really niishe. Call her right now!'
Of course I did. I slurred the breeze with her for a few minutes and then 'Kamikaze' had another brilliant idea. ''What a great opportunity to pitch your new project''.
Lordy, lordy, lordy. Not only will I sound even more of a twat than usual, but it ain't exactly impressive being very obviously three sheets to the wind at 4 0'clock in the afternoon.
I don't recall much about my pitch but I remember something along the lines of ''I jusht wanna poke fun at the shite on TV and the, hic, numbshkull, hic, bashtards who put it there!'
Where did I put my copy of 'How to win friends and influence people'?
I'm long in the tooth enough to have made a twat of myself on occassions too numerous to mention, but what is much worse is I sent her the rough two sheet I had prepared on it. You see, I can probably get away with making a twat of myself if I sent in a fully realised, viable project. But this wasn't. It will be in time, but not right now.
So I'm not that bothered about making a twat of my self by drunken dialling. I'd like to think I can make a much bigger twat of myself than that.
I'm far more bothered about the fact that I sent out a project I knew wasn't ready. The Cardinal sin. Bridges can be burned and you look like you don't know what you're doing.
Although having thought about it, the state I was in I may well have sent her a letter to my car insurer instead.
I'll go and check.
Doh!!!!
I don't think too much damage has been done in this case. She's an old pal. But it could just as easily have been one of those potentially life changing phonecalls.
So the moral of the story is that if you are going to get rat-arsed in the afternoon and you really, really want to speak to a producer then.........send an e-mail instead. At least you can edit it.
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11 years ago
6 comments:
Maybe you can get a phone with an alchohol sensor on it? One that won't let you dial if you're over the limit.
If such a thing doesn't exist, now's the time to invent one.
lol Phillip. But wouldn't that interfere with my late night calls to Kiera Knightly?
Alternate title: Don't drink and pitch...or putt (for that matter)
Tough one...because sometimes it takes that drink or two to feel relaxed enough to pitch a project. I suppose its recognizing the difference between relaxed and TOO relaxed...
Far better title. I may nick it Will!
Dave, Dave, Dave.......
Daaaaaaaaaavvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeee!!!
You're my beshtest mate ever, that I've ever had.
Oh, I've got a shtory to tell you. I've got one I have. I've got a story.
I've....
Huh?!
Why do I picture you as Stewie and me as Brian?
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