If you don't
already know the story of Anti-Hypotenuse Woman (or even if you do),
read this first to acquaint yourself with this incredible megalomaniacal
narcissist: http://www.behindtheseen.me/
So when I recognized her on set last night (background actors on this film exist in class systems, and her class, fittingly, is a couple levels above mine and had never been on set at the same time before -- something that many of us noticed produced a bizarre attitude of superiority in the background actors of the highest class, as if they forgot the class system wasn't real... but that's a different story), I tried to avoid her, placing my back to her when she approached the group I was standing talking with. I knew it was unlikely I could avoid her for long, because I'd previously seen her enough to know that A. she would never remember me from our prior interactions and B. she would approach me sooner or later because she had a strict system in selecting women she spoke to -- I seemed to fit into that narrow category that she considered pretty enough to be acceptable for her to be seen talking to but not so pretty that she would feel remotely threatened in her assurance that she was the most beautiful woman in her vicinity.
And so coming up behind me despite my best efforts at hiding from her, she said, "I just find [leading man] terribly attractive. Is that weird? Do you find him attractive?"
Me [involuntarily guffawing at the ridiculousness of the question]: Well... yeah. But don't you think anything with a pulse finds him attractive?
Her [ignoring me]: I mean I just need a man. You know, I only attract 25-year-olds because I look 25 [she looks 45], and I'm always looking back at men I dated and thinking I'm so out of their league, you know?
Me: Well, I--
Her: -- I mean, I think I'm out of a lot of men's leagues. I really am. I'm out of most men's leagues. I mean, I was a prima ballerina, toured the world at 26, you know? I mean I'm just not going to be with an ordinary guy, you know? I'm going to be with a producer or someone like that, really important. That's just what's in my league.
Me: Mm-hmm, totally.
Her: And I don't really believe people are supposed to be together for like 20-25 years, right?
Me: Well I do think people change and evolve, so I don't think that just because a couple is totally right for each other at one point that means they'll necessarily still be right for each other years later, but--
Her: Exactly. Especially men. Because men always want [makes lewd gesture] with something new, right? That's just biology. I mean, I'll tell you, I was on [the show that I actually know her from] and you know [a male star of that show] was just really open to me. Like I was on all the time, regularly, stood in for his love interest [I watched the show, the woman she stood in for was not his love interest, nor was she a regular -- she was a recurring role, and the woman had completed her time standing in for her by the time I met her, and she had been on set little enough that none of the crew knew her, and for what it's worth, the star she's talking about showed zero sign of recognition of her on set], and we became really really close, like [makes suggestive face], but just talking, and I mean, he's only with his wife because of the kids, right? I think a lot of men are like that. Only with the wife because of the kids. I mean, he basically told me as much. He basically said as much as that they're just not right for each other. She, the wife, just isn't [shrugs shoulders], right? I give them nine years. And I'm pretty sure we'll be going out on a date then. I mean, I would never wish ill for a marriage, but you know, if he's going to be single anyway.
Me: Sure [grinning in an attempt not to laugh, which she thankfully took as encouragement to continue].
Her: And then you know, Woody Allen picked me for this role where they needed a real leggy woman, legs for days, but then casting switched it out on me. I hate that, right? I mean Woody Allen picked me. So frustrating.
Me: Yeah, that's the worst.
Her: And so then there was this other producer -- I can't tell you who he is, but I mean [makes top level gesture], he was really high up. Like he's a really really important person. You would know him if I told you. But I can't. But anyway, he was hitting on me a lot, like I could tell he wanted my number. And I'm thinking of going out with him. He's older, like 70, but I need someone older, I think. I mean, he's really important. Like he's a really big deal.
Me: Uh-huh. Yeah, I think you should go for it.
Her: It's been seven years since I was with anyone, so I think I might. He's a producer, you know? Real big. You'd know him.
Me: Right. Yeah.
Her: And then there's this actor [names someone I've never heard of], he's this really big actor, been on all the shows, all the TV shows, and he's coming over to my apartment tomorrow for dinner.
Me: Oh yeah? [full-on uncontrollably laughing now, but fortunately she was somehow totally misinterpreting it]
Her: Yeah, and he's bringing his girlfriend. I introduced them, you know?
Me: Oh, that's great.
Her: Yeah, I introduced them, and I guess she's a vegetarian, yeah, a vegetarian, so I'm making them dinner, and I guess we're all having this fantastic vegetarian dinner. Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it. He's this really big actor. It'll be great. I'm making them dinner.
Me: Yeah. Good for you.
The conversation/monologue ended rather abruptly when a friend of mine came over to me and we started chatting... and I felt my first twinge of pity for Anti-Hypotenuse Prima Ballerina as I realized she was probably used to being the one to decide when her crazy conversations ended... rather than being left to talk to herself about her rich imaginary life (or her probably-too-empty real life). I didn't speak with her again for the rest of the night, and that was just fine with me.... But I still think of her with a complex assortment of feelings… amusement and amazement, sympathy and confusion, curiosity and pity…. She is an incredible part of New York’s remarkable urban panoply.
So when I recognized her on set last night (background actors on this film exist in class systems, and her class, fittingly, is a couple levels above mine and had never been on set at the same time before -- something that many of us noticed produced a bizarre attitude of superiority in the background actors of the highest class, as if they forgot the class system wasn't real... but that's a different story), I tried to avoid her, placing my back to her when she approached the group I was standing talking with. I knew it was unlikely I could avoid her for long, because I'd previously seen her enough to know that A. she would never remember me from our prior interactions and B. she would approach me sooner or later because she had a strict system in selecting women she spoke to -- I seemed to fit into that narrow category that she considered pretty enough to be acceptable for her to be seen talking to but not so pretty that she would feel remotely threatened in her assurance that she was the most beautiful woman in her vicinity.
And so coming up behind me despite my best efforts at hiding from her, she said, "I just find [leading man] terribly attractive. Is that weird? Do you find him attractive?"
Me [involuntarily guffawing at the ridiculousness of the question]: Well... yeah. But don't you think anything with a pulse finds him attractive?
Her [ignoring me]: I mean I just need a man. You know, I only attract 25-year-olds because I look 25 [she looks 45], and I'm always looking back at men I dated and thinking I'm so out of their league, you know?
Me: Well, I--
Her: -- I mean, I think I'm out of a lot of men's leagues. I really am. I'm out of most men's leagues. I mean, I was a prima ballerina, toured the world at 26, you know? I mean I'm just not going to be with an ordinary guy, you know? I'm going to be with a producer or someone like that, really important. That's just what's in my league.
Me: Mm-hmm, totally.
Her: And I don't really believe people are supposed to be together for like 20-25 years, right?
Me: Well I do think people change and evolve, so I don't think that just because a couple is totally right for each other at one point that means they'll necessarily still be right for each other years later, but--
Her: Exactly. Especially men. Because men always want [makes lewd gesture] with something new, right? That's just biology. I mean, I'll tell you, I was on [the show that I actually know her from] and you know [a male star of that show] was just really open to me. Like I was on all the time, regularly, stood in for his love interest [I watched the show, the woman she stood in for was not his love interest, nor was she a regular -- she was a recurring role, and the woman had completed her time standing in for her by the time I met her, and she had been on set little enough that none of the crew knew her, and for what it's worth, the star she's talking about showed zero sign of recognition of her on set], and we became really really close, like [makes suggestive face], but just talking, and I mean, he's only with his wife because of the kids, right? I think a lot of men are like that. Only with the wife because of the kids. I mean, he basically told me as much. He basically said as much as that they're just not right for each other. She, the wife, just isn't [shrugs shoulders], right? I give them nine years. And I'm pretty sure we'll be going out on a date then. I mean, I would never wish ill for a marriage, but you know, if he's going to be single anyway.
Me: Sure [grinning in an attempt not to laugh, which she thankfully took as encouragement to continue].
Her: And then you know, Woody Allen picked me for this role where they needed a real leggy woman, legs for days, but then casting switched it out on me. I hate that, right? I mean Woody Allen picked me. So frustrating.
Me: Yeah, that's the worst.
Her: And so then there was this other producer -- I can't tell you who he is, but I mean [makes top level gesture], he was really high up. Like he's a really really important person. You would know him if I told you. But I can't. But anyway, he was hitting on me a lot, like I could tell he wanted my number. And I'm thinking of going out with him. He's older, like 70, but I need someone older, I think. I mean, he's really important. Like he's a really big deal.
Me: Uh-huh. Yeah, I think you should go for it.
Her: It's been seven years since I was with anyone, so I think I might. He's a producer, you know? Real big. You'd know him.
Me: Right. Yeah.
Her: And then there's this actor [names someone I've never heard of], he's this really big actor, been on all the shows, all the TV shows, and he's coming over to my apartment tomorrow for dinner.
Me: Oh yeah? [full-on uncontrollably laughing now, but fortunately she was somehow totally misinterpreting it]
Her: Yeah, and he's bringing his girlfriend. I introduced them, you know?
Me: Oh, that's great.
Her: Yeah, I introduced them, and I guess she's a vegetarian, yeah, a vegetarian, so I'm making them dinner, and I guess we're all having this fantastic vegetarian dinner. Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it. He's this really big actor. It'll be great. I'm making them dinner.
Me: Yeah. Good for you.
The conversation/monologue ended rather abruptly when a friend of mine came over to me and we started chatting... and I felt my first twinge of pity for Anti-Hypotenuse Prima Ballerina as I realized she was probably used to being the one to decide when her crazy conversations ended... rather than being left to talk to herself about her rich imaginary life (or her probably-too-empty real life). I didn't speak with her again for the rest of the night, and that was just fine with me.... But I still think of her with a complex assortment of feelings… amusement and amazement, sympathy and confusion, curiosity and pity…. She is an incredible part of New York’s remarkable urban panoply.
No comments:
Post a Comment