Read This Blog Lightly, The Council Does Not

I was at CBS handing out resumes a day or two ago, and because most of the production offices aren't labeled (and because I don't watch any TV shows anyway), I made a questionably poor decision to blindly walk into buildings and feign competency by saying, "Are you guys accepting resumes for PAs on the show?"

I have no idea what shows I've applied to now, but if I get a phone call from Wayne on "Hickory Maud's Hussie Women Diaries," I'll know how it happened.

After I had handed many out and was stumbling around lost on the lot, some guy (from the office for "Greek," I think) found me on the lot later and got really excited and said, "Andy? Right, Andrew! Do you know Tom Pistol? No? Okay, well, go to that building there, go to room 360, and ask for Tom Pistol. And you tell him that Danny Goldman sent you and he says you're The Hustle!"

I got really excited, cause I had no idea what any of that meant, except he told me Tom Pistol was Executive Producer of something or whatever. So I ran away and immediately forgot everything he had just said, and proceeded to mess up every name AND the message:

"Is Tom Pistol here?"

"Right here."

"Hi, Mr. Pistol! My name is Andrew Pinkerton! Danny Goldman sent me up here-"

"Gomez."

"Yeah, Danny Gomez. Sure. And he sent me up here to your office. I, uh... I think he said I was The Hustle..."

A really long, really awkward pause. Then Tom says:

"I don't know what that means."

"Oh... Really?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know what it means, either. I was, uh, hoping you'd get it."

"I don't."

"...well, I gave him a resume. So maybe I'm just supposed to give one to you."

"We're fully staffed right now."

"Uh huh. I figured. Here you go."

And then I smiled prettily, choked out a nervous laugh, and thanked him for his time before I scampered out of the room with the rest of my resumes.

And then I sulked sheepishly in the elevator the whole way down, and darted past the desk lady in the lobby to the CBS Take 5 Cafe, where I begrudgingly paid $1.89 for a 20 oz. bottle of Coca-Cola to drown my humiliation and sorrows in.