Joey had been living in L.A. for almost ten years. He rented a small apartment and worked at various bars and cafés. In his spare time Joey took acting classes, read scripts, and chased auditions. He wanted to be part of the Hollywood scene. After years of hard work and dedication, Joey finally got a break. He was selected for a part in the up-and-coming James Bond film. He called last week to inform me of the success.
“Congratulations,” I said, in reply to his excited rant. “I can’t wait to see the film.” It was an honest comment; I have always been a fan of the action series.
“Sorry, I have to go,” he blurted, hurriedly; “I’m using the studio phone.” The sentence ended abruptly with the silence of disconnection.
I organised a viewing with some of our high school friends. We had a bit of a wager on which bit-part role Joey would be playing. Bartender, chauffeur, and henchman, were a few of the suggestions. I had my money on bank clerk.
Not far into the film, the James Bond character was shown a list of possible suspects for the attack on MI6. Images of the internationally recognised criminals were shown on the agency large screen. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Joey was right there in the middle of the action. Daniel Craig pointed to the screen to indicate the culprit; “that’s him!” he said. If he had’ve pointed just a centimetre higher, my friend would’ve been a major character in one of the highest grossing films of the year. As it turned out, Joey’s contribution was limited to a single snapshot.
“Well, no one picked that,” I said, as the closing credits began to roll. “I guess we just divide up the pot.”
“That’s his entire role?” said one of my friends, incredulously. “He can barely say he’s made it.”
“Perhaps,” noted another from our group; “but he’s still more well-known than any of us will ever be.”
“Congratulations,” I said, in reply to his excited rant. “I can’t wait to see the film.” It was an honest comment; I have always been a fan of the action series.
“Sorry, I have to go,” he blurted, hurriedly; “I’m using the studio phone.” The sentence ended abruptly with the silence of disconnection.
I organised a viewing with some of our high school friends. We had a bit of a wager on which bit-part role Joey would be playing. Bartender, chauffeur, and henchman, were a few of the suggestions. I had my money on bank clerk.
Not far into the film, the James Bond character was shown a list of possible suspects for the attack on MI6. Images of the internationally recognised criminals were shown on the agency large screen. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Joey was right there in the middle of the action. Daniel Craig pointed to the screen to indicate the culprit; “that’s him!” he said. If he had’ve pointed just a centimetre higher, my friend would’ve been a major character in one of the highest grossing films of the year. As it turned out, Joey’s contribution was limited to a single snapshot.
“Well, no one picked that,” I said, as the closing credits began to roll. “I guess we just divide up the pot.”
“That’s his entire role?” said one of my friends, incredulously. “He can barely say he’s made it.”
“Perhaps,” noted another from our group; “but he’s still more well-known than any of us will ever be.”