Hi,
Hope you are well in the moment you read this.
This is based on a real person. It occurred after I completed my short film, Born in a Storm.
(Written in 2012)
Put your head between your knees, brace for impact
I was making video transfers
For a living
Fairly standard stuff
On the fringes of Film and Television
Yet I wanted in
To the Real Thing.
I made a short film
That took many months
Work, money and heart
The latter, being the most important
Yet had few avenues
To pursue at the finish.
It was harder to make your way then
I was unconnected
And a little guileless.
He was a salesman
In our company
Who said he had contacts
I knew he was slippery
Yet gave it up
Like a broke whore.
I looked after him
And his clients
Above all others
Lost in hope
And smoke
Of the dream.
In short
I raised my ass
To be pounded
Again and again.
My belief and self esteem
Diminished each time
Yet my doubt grew
His excuses for the delays
Are probably referenced
In the Salesman’s Handbook
And finally
As the truth settled on my corpse
I knew
I had to let it go.
Nothing ever came of the film
But I had learnt some important lessons
Like a Hollywood cliché.
Yet there was no subsequent
Punishment for him
Or enlightenment for me.
I grew to respect caution
As I avoided
A further pounding
Down the line
In other forms
With a justified disdain
For salesmen.
I wished death upon that motherfucker
Though I’m long over it
And went onto make other short films
Better ones
And wrote stories and novels
And poetry
About assholes like him.
And yet
Occasionally
It hurts to sit.
