Anyway, I get off the elevator for one of the bajillion castings happening now and walk up to the table with the sign-in sheet. Standing next to it is a pretty intern girl, and I decide to make some small talk as I go to scribble my name in. I'm sure this decision probably had to do with my natural propensity to talk to anything that exists, but also I was hoping to maybe liven up her day a bit. Because a lot of times these interns are basically just standing next to a clipboard for what could be hours, until maybe they get a break to go label something or order everyone's lunch or, I don't know, slip into the bathroom and cry at having ruined everyone's lunch.
"But...but you didn't say it all had to be kosher..."
I figured if I acknowledged her presence it would at the very least help us both pass the time a little faster, if not validate her existence long enough to keep from the bathroom crying. But of course I'm me, so that's not exactly how it went down.
I noticed that she was wearing a little argyle cutoff...sweater...thing...okay honestly I have no idea what exactly the thing she was wearing is called, and I hope that's not grounds to revoke my fashion license. Though to be fair I really only have this job because of arbitrary things like my height and cheekbones, and if those could be popped off and photographed by themselves I'd be out of a career anyway.
The point here is that the sweater was argyle, which...I don't know if you know this about me, but almost everything I owned pre-modeling (so...before getting trade) was either argyle or sweater-y. Like if you were to compare my closet with Ellen DeGeneres's they'd be exactly the same.
Pictured here: things I literally own and actually wear.
Simple enough. I write my name down, look up at the girl, and say, "Nice sweater."
And she turns right around and clomps away in her heels.
Now I have no idea what the hell I did, if I shouldn't have called it a sweater or maybe it was laundry day and she secretly hates argyle and was hoping no one would notice. But at this point I'm thinking my plan totally backfired, that I was the final straw and actually sent her to the bathroom early.
I try not to think about this as I go through the casting, gather my things, and return to the elevator to leave. But as soon as I push the button, she reappears. And not only reappears, but waves at me and says "Have a nice day!"
So me, being the completely awkward son of a bitch who should probably have a ball gag on hand for times like these, respond with this:
"Keep rockin' that argyle!"
Keep rockin' that argyle. Because that is a normal thing to say to someone. Especially after the reaction earlier. And to make matters worse, the elevator hasn't arrived yet, leaving us in that odd, terrible, Already-Said-Goodbye-But-Still-Haven't-Left-Yet state.
Meanwhile her reaction to my comment is a little tip back of the head, a kind of polite acknowledgement of what I've said coupled with the disbelief of what it actually was.
And the elevator still isn't there.
So I respond to her AGAIN, this time throwing her a thumbs up. Brilliantly thought through, I know.
And then she smiles. But not like a happy smile, or even one of those "Aww you're such a doofus" smiles. More of an "Oh my god why did he just thumbs up me" smile.
Cue me turning away and mashing on the elevator button, praying it'll arrive and there's a bathroom nearby to cry in.
