A Particularly Crappy Day

I placed my pink travel mug on the sidewalk and jammed my poorly copied key into the lock, wriggling and twisting until it clicked. I pushed the gate open, walking with it so I could latch it to the outer wall of the soundstage with a bungee cord.

But I stopped short.

There, just at the tips of my ballet flats, was a ginormous, moist pile of shit.

Wow, I thought to myself. Somebody walked their dog up the driveway and let it take a dump right in the middle? That seems like so much effort.

It was massive and squishy and probably warm. Should I tell the CEO that there’s a steaming pile of shit in the driveway? If I tell him, do I have to clean it up? It was pretty centered in the driveway, so it probably wouldn’t nip any tires when the executives drove in for the day. And nobody walked down the driveway except me to take the six rolling garbage cans in and out. Nobody even helped me with them, so really the only way someone would find out about this crap is if I said something.

I decided to stay silent. The executives would just drive over it and none would be the wiser. They probably have their assistants wash their cars on the daily anyway.

A few weeks later, I arrived at the office to find a security guard patrolling our outdoor patio.

Has he always been here? I wondered. Am I that much of an asshole after living in Los Angeles for four months that I don’t even see people who aren’t in the industry? No, I definitely would’ve remembered him.

“What is going on?” I asked the executive assistant.

The story goes like this:

Somebody from the production team on our latest ultra low budget horror film was working on the soundstage at the witching hour, when she heard some creaking on the roof. She looked up through the cloudy sunroof and thought she saw a shadow moving around.

She got the hell out of there and called 911. They sent a helicopter to check out the scene. When the coppers flipped on the chopper’s spotlight, they saw a dude. And a tent.

“So this guy has been living on the roof of the soundstage for at least a month,” the executive assistant told me. “He’s been pissing off the side of the building.”

That’s not all he’s been doing, I thought.