Thursday, August 30, 2007

Fuckin' Genius

I've been backlogged on the blogging topics from all the nothing I've been doing. (See previous post.) I meant to type this the day after it happened, but got sidetracked as Yoshi was here and making me WoW on a PVP server. Vashj. Join it. If you're on it, let me know. I'll /friend you.

Anyway, a little over a week ago, I was confronted with an event that put me in a situation where I felt insulted enough and threatened enough that I'd pulled a knife -- albeit, not an OPEN knife (yet) on a person. Let me give you the background and you can all judge for yourself what you would have done in the same situation.

---

I was always close to the security guards at Lost. George, Kevin, Josh, that whole lot. They've always been good to me and we've shared some great talks. But with the new season came new guards. George and Kevin decided to quit Securitas to return to school after more than 10 years of being out of that whole lifestyle. And Josh, poor Josh, was the sole guard who remained from the original acquisition of the Lost account.

Securitas brought in several new guards and unfortunately (or fortunately?) I wasn't able to get to know them all before my own departure, but they all seemed friendly enough.

After my release, I received an email from one of the new guards saying that he'd noticed my name had been crossed off of the studio access list and he wished me the best... keep my chin up, that kind of thing. Not really knowing him, I was cordial and sent an email back thanking him for the support. He contacted me a few days later saying that he had plans to go to Japan and wanted to talk to me about it. I gave him my number, not thinking anything of it, and told him that it would actually be best to email me about it, as many of you know that I'm poor at answering my phone or giving call backs. He emails saying that he'll contact me later.

---

Later comes. August 22. Wednesday.

I'm at my sister's husband's best friend's house. He's moving to the mainland in a few weeks, so we went over to pick up some furniture we'd purchased... and also to help him with any last minute cleaning. The guard calls me. I tell him that I'm busy and that I'd give him a call in the evening. Twenty minutes later, he texts me: "Got somethin for u.meet me for a drink.say,6ish.u pick the place." I reply: "I'm scheduled to go to dinner w/a friend tonight." Actually, I'd had plans to go to dinner with my sister and the friend we were helping.

A few hours later, he calls. My sister and I are at the Kalihi Salvation Army, donating some of our friend's stuff. The guard calls me again. I tell him, again, that I can't meet with him because I have a dinner planned, but that I'll call him after I'm through with all my previous obligations. He says he has something to give me, but is extremely vague about what it is. Just that I'll understand when I see what it is and that he believes I may have something to "contribute" to it. He also mentions that he has a new job and is no longer with Securitas. By this point, I'm a bit irritated since I feel that he's being rather pushy also being evasive as to why he wants to meet me.

Dinner at Shokudo goes well.

Afterward, I go walking at the UH track with Jolene. We walk about three miles, during the course of which, the guard calls me twice and texts me once. Again, I'm irritated; I told him I'd call when I was finished with my previous plans that day. I drop Jolene off at her Aunt's house and call the guy. He asks that we meet briefly so that he can give me whatever it is he has to give me. "It won't take more than 15 minutes."

I meet him in the parking lot of the Pali Hwy Longs/Safeway. He hops into my car and we drive down to a dive downtown called Amy's Place. He drops a stack of papers onto the table in front of me and asks that I read it. It's a script -- location, Japan. I read through about half of it before he approaches me to talk about it.

Basically, he says that it's a film script and he wants to use my expertise and my connections in the industry to get it produced. He says the producers at Lost are unable to break into feature films because they don't have the talent or opportunity or whatever. Condescension drips like venom from his mustached lips as he speaks negatively of the people there, and then says that the script in my hand is a "fuckin' masterpiece..." and that he's a "fuckin' genius." Kids, let's make note of the phrase "fuckin' genius." We'll be hearing it for the rest of the night.

He then proceeds to tell me how he knew from the moment he laid his eyes on me that I'd be the one to bring the project to fruition. I could help him get money from the Lost producers, get them involved. I could use my Japanese skill in Japan. He "fuckin' chose [me]. The script is a fuckin' gift. [My] life fallin' into [my] lap. [He's] a fuckin' genius." He's drunk.

I tell him that I need to read the entire script before I decide if it's something that's worth my time and effort. He tells me that there's nothing to decide. He's TELLING me.

Heh. I'm sure you all know how well that goes over with me. TELLING me to do something? I don't think so.

And then I become the target of his condescension. I'm young. I don't know anything. I'm turning away the biggest opportunity of my life. He's a fuckin' genius (the only genius I'm ever going to meet, according to him, mind you). But he needs my help to do this. And he CHOSE me. I'M the ONE who is going to make this. Oh, and P.S. He's a fuckin' genius.

Anyway, an hour later, the bar is closing. I'm still telling him that I'm undecided as to whether I'm interested. He insists that he knew from the moment he saw me that after I read the first page, I'd know I'd be part of the project... because it's a fuckin' brilliant script... oh, and let's not forget he's a fuckin' genius. I tell him I've read the first 50 or so pages and I'm still not convinced. And he's pissed.

I tell him that we should go. I'd already stayed MUCH longer than 15 minutes by that time, since it was after 2 am. We jump in my car and I drive back to the Long's parking lot so that he can retrieve his vehicle. We pull in next to his van and he doesn't get out. He proceeds for the next 15 minutes to argue with me... to convince me that he's a fuckin' genius and this film is going to take Sundance 2008. I ask him to get out of the car. He doesn't. Every other sentence I say is "get out of the car." He ignores me and continues down his tangent. He's upset and getting closer to me. All of a sudden, he looks at the back of my car and then looks at me and says, "Hey, do you want to go somewhere and fool around?" My response? FUCK NO. GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR RIGHT NOW. I'd had it. And I also had my MUSHROOM KNIFE in hand - blade still tucked away. (Click on the link to for an example of what a mushroom knife looks like.) Of course, the drunk bastard probably didn't even realize I was armed.

Anyway, he looked at me incredulously and asks "Are you kicking me out of your car?" I'm aghast. I'd been demanding he get out of the car for 15 minutes! I tell him again to get the fuck out of the car. I was scared and seriously considering cutting the guy if he didn't leave immediately. He gets even more upset, declares that he's no longer interested in working with me. Turning this away was the biggest mistake of my life... blah, blah... fuckin' genius... blah. He gets out of the car, I thank him for the opportunity. He slams the door and I peel away -- grateful that he hadn't hurt me. It felt like he was going to.

And I thought things were over. I was wrong.

The next day he calls and texts over and over. Saying how he knows me because of this very blog and thus understands me well. Saying how he understands my predicament with my boyfriend being gone... And then sexually propositions me AGAIN.

And I've decided to ignore him. As much as possible. Josh at Securitas thinks that I should file a complaint with the police and with Securitas since the guard had originally gotten my email address from the confidential crew list at Lost. I'm not going to take that route, yet.

Instead, I'll just pray that the guard will go away. And if he doesn't, then I'll take further steps to ensure he no longer bothers me.

After all this, I'm still amazed that he believes his behaviour that night would convince me to help him with his production. I told him on multiple occasions that his attitude was insulting... disgusting... and that if he truly wanted my help or the help of anyone else on this project, he was going to have to learn the concepts of respect and reciprocity. I told him MANY times. His response, "What?" I would repeat it and he wouldn't hear me. I would say, "You're not listening." He would reply he is. I'd ask him to repeat what I just said and he'd reply, "That I'm a fuckin' genius."

Fuckin' genius? Try fuckin' idiot.

/me.

No comments: