Friday, May 31, 2013
Charming snakes at the Georges V
Since I have taken the decision to become a snake charmer, I have met with little resistance on the part of friends and acquaintances who feel, no doubt, that I have finally found my true calling and if that is what it is, I wish it for everyone.
Most careers require years of study and experience before attaining the ease and elegance to get one through the rough passages, if personal experience is anything to go by. Without the benefit of having visited India or certain neighborhoods of London, I find that my overlong experience in Hollywood has adequately prepared me for anything a cobra might hand out. Just you try negotiating cross-collateralization on a slate of films from the position of writer.
The chef here is one of the finest yet my king cobra has shown an indifference to the hotel's cuisine bordering on that of The Chad (who recently upgraded to a better rehab facility in Malibu to celebrate stealing a very successful actor/director away from a rival agent at UTA). Don't think for a minute that it was easy getting the kitchen to deliver live pheasant to the (junior) suite, either, for there are some requests at which even the staff of a five-star hotel will balk.
After a difficult getting-to-know-you period, "Shelby" and I have settled into a routine that works for both of us to a reasonable degree--though we've been asked to cease our rehearsal sessions in the courtyard--and it reminded me of the first few months I suffered under my first production deal with a major studio. "Shelby" only tried to bite me, whereas...
The only real problem is getting him back into his basket everyday at about noon when the service comes by to restore the (junior) suite to its original condition. I don't for the life of me know how he gets out and it is probably a riddle I should try to solve but there is only so much one can do in a day.
As in Hollywood, we snake charmers learn quickly to dream big and not sweat the small stuff.