Jewelry Shoot-Party Server Shirtless

Fortunately I have continued to get cast for paid work. I got selected to be in a video look book for a jeweler. The humor in this is that I had actually found this gig by myself and one morning I emailed my agent to see if he had a casting for me and what do you know, he had the one that I had worked on finding! This is cool though because the more I show Boss that I can book things the more likely they will be willing to send me to castings in the future.

So I did the fitting for this shoot before meeting with Ford and that helped keep my mind off of the bigger things I had in the works. The day of the shoot came and I was not required to report in until noon. I got to brooklyn earlier than necessary and before I got to the studio my agent calls and informed me that the designer was trying to hold payment and lower the amount. My Boss man continued and said "we will not play bitch, Randall I know you new to modeling but we will not let this happen-i am on vacation and they call me telling me that they do not want to pay the agreed rate, no no no."

So I'm told not to go to the studio until I get a call. When I got the call I was told that they'd be giving me a check before I left and that all was well, "you don't know nothing about this. Just go there, smile, and be beautiful." So I arrive and there was no drama. I introduced myself to everyone and after I found out that I was to wait before getting my hair and make up did I do what always comes naturally, I sought out the food table.

You can determine whether you're at a photo shoot or a video shoot by viewing the table of food. Any video productions I've been included in have had gnarly amounts of candy, carbs, and crap (pizza, subs, granola bars) while at a photo shoot most of the time I find food where the composers of the shoot take into consideration what the model can eat. They understand we aren't the fat ass behind the scenes who can scarf down 20 slices of pizza and 50 bagels throughout the day without worry and provide the models with lovely trays of veggies or salads. None the less I am a poor model and take what I am given, HAPPILY.

If I'm not mistaken I consumed 3 bagels, 2 granola bars, and a lot of water in the 4 hours I was there. For "lunch" they bought some weird things that were like over sized ravioli with cheese and potatoes in them...I had one and wanted to puke in the mouth of whomever had the brilliant idea to order them. Fuckin nasty.

So I got my hair done, comb over (big fuckin surprise!!!) and then proceeded to get my make up. I voiced my distraught feelings of how my hair was styled to the make up artist and she attempted to comfort me by saying "oh no, its looks good!"

I grew my hair out to allow people to have flexibility in styling my hair. Now all I get is stylists doing the comb over. I told the make up artist that even at my punk runway show when i was expecting some wild spikes or maybe even a punk mohawk I was let down and what do you think I got?! The comb over, ahhhhhhhh I think its time to shave my head (there goes modeling) anyway, I told the MUA that its cool though. I'm just a mannequin and do as I'm styled.

My first scene was me in a striped sailors robe and some white cotton pants. My freshly shaved chest was exposed to display the necklace I was wearing. I was directed to look at the camera, look away, and close my eyes. Then I had to blink for a solid minute. Like I said, I just do as I'm told! Try blinking as fast as you can for a minute, something I would have never fathomed modeling would lead me to.

I ate some pretzels and changed my outfit. The director said she didn't need me so I passed out for a solid hour and a half in the break room and awoke to consume another bagel but this time with peanut butter. My next scene was to step into the frame where a female model was wearing a backless dress with a necklace draped down her back. Her back was being shot so her face was a mystery to the viewer. I step in and slide my hand from her shoulder to the side of her lower back. Very complicated.

The next shot she was facing the camera and I was behind her. I was directed to slide my hands over her stomach and down her legs in a sensual manner and then after a while her hands would meet mine. Lastly, I slid my hand from her ear to hear jaw line and turned her head towards my face. It was an interesting and completely boring experience but the pay was good (for the effort I had to put forth) so who could complain? They cut me a check in my name and I departed.

I had nothing else planned for the day so I decided to walk back to Manhattan via bridge. I believe its the Brooklyn bridge but whatever the name, the bridge that drops you on Delancey Street in the lower east side is what I took. The lighting was pre sunset so it was still a bit warm but my sunscreen was on and I was relaxed.

The check was written in my name and this made me think. My agent had argued for them to cut me a check but I thought it was to be written out to the agency so they could get their cut. For a brief moment I considered just cashing the check and having half my rent paid...then I figured no. I am a slave to this agency seeing how they are the only ones to give me a chance and take me on their board so I must show my thanks by obeying. The next day I brought the check to the agency.

My agent was out so the other in the office advised me to keep the check. Fortunately for me a photographer just so happened to be there awaiting the arrival of another model to shoot for the show package for fashion week. The other agent decided to have me shot for the package since I was there. Such a mind fuck seeing how my agent said I could not do fashion week because my book was too new. Whatever!!! I happily had my photos taken on the roof and carried on with my day.

The following day consisted of an extremely lazy morning and I did not depart the bed until about 2:30 pm. I dressed and headed to Penn station. This day, my assignment was to travel to Long Island where I would serve at a pool party shirtless. I took the Long Island Rail Road about 40 minutes out and got off the train. Since I had not eaten breakfast I went immediately to the nearest pizza place (I know, such a fat ass BUT the alternative was dunkin donuts and what would you have thought if I said "I went to dd and consumed a dozen donuts."? Those days are over!)

The pizza place was impressive. I consumed a bbq chicken slice which was loaded with chicken and then ordered 4 garlic balls. The inevitable question was presented to the cashier, "do yall have hot sauce?" I got my hot sauce and covered my slice thoroughly, DELISH! Garlic BALLS did not follow suit. Anyway, I had some time so I opted for a second slice but this time it was only covered with cheese AND HOT SAUCE! I departed the pizza parlor and proceeded to walk 3 miles to the residence where my "work" was about to begin.

The first thing I did was take note of the neighborhoods I was walking through. What type of houses, cars, and people was this community populated with? This is an easy way to determine the expected over all tip as well as the individual tips I'd be receiving. Once I found the house I scoped the cars parked out front as this was my last resort to determine my income to conclude the evening...nicest car was a mini-worst was a mini van...hard to read but I'm an optimist, it'll be a good night.

I ring the door bell and am greeted by a gay man. I completely forgot the husband of the couple I was working fors name and just said I was here for the wife, dude probably thought I was the stripper. I'm lead to the backyard pool area and meet the hostess who already has her white wine and looks as if she's had a few already. The first thing she does is welcomes me and thanks me for being there then proceeds to offer me food and drink, a genuine and kind woman.

After I settle in, take my shirt off, and throw some jeans on my hostess informs me that I need to loosen up and work the crowds. She forced me to take a shot but I told her that I won't be taking any shots solo that evening so she hesitantly accepted her accompanying shot. As she was raising her shot her sister yelled her name and gave her the look, clearly this chick gets blitzed easily...she took her shot and I took two.

I walked around with a tray and no shirt. Did I mention I was shirtless? I really do feel like a douche bag walking around a party with no shirt on-i really don't love myself enough to be like OHHH YEAH I'm cool with no shirt on. Work is work though and I do what I need to do for the benjamins-baby. So my introductions were sincere and I started taking drink orders.

The crowd had about 35% gay men so I was forced many more shots. The party had an ice luge for shots so I definitely had some facebook worthy shot shots of my partaking in that insanity with the gays and drunken ladies-FUN. I'll be tagged "shirtless boy" or "Randall". Whatever.

So after about an hour my assistants rolled up. One woman in her late 40's with pretty large breasts and a 23 year old chick, a little lady. Did I mention they were topless as well? So we make our introductions and take our obligatory introductory shots...not gonna lie, I could read on the little chick that she was a partier and I thought itd be funny to see her tipsy. She got tipsy alright.

So the party carries on into the sunset and the tips are getting larger. At one point the younger topless chick asks me how much I'm getting tipped because "I've been serving mad drinks and only gotten $3 in tips". I lied and said only a few dollars as well but my pockets were bulging with money. Then as I was leaving she decided to enlighten me.

She told me to listen to her advice. "Listen, if a chick asks you for a soda never ask if she wants diet. I forgot how insecure women can be and if you ask her if she wants diet she'll think you're calling her fat." I thanked her for her words of brilliance and departed the kitchen. Apparently this chick has some sort of a degree and dubbed her job in genetics a "wicked hard job" yet she's still working topless at a pool party she found of craigslist. I'm sorry but I feel its worse for a woman to work topless than for a man to but that's just based on the standards of our society...perhaps that's just my close minded thoughts, shhhh.

More and more shots were consumed and I found myself attempting to be responsible and drink a few bottled waters to maintain my charm for those tips! My 23 year old female topless serving partner was beginning to get noticed by all and I saw her being spoken to by the hostess at the pool so I went over.

Apparently she served someone a vodka when they asked for a water and the hostess was trying to be like, you fucked up. She argued saying that she got the right drink and even if she was wrong she was right. Her rant continued, "I serve parties at fashion week all the time. In fact they always call model bartenders like me for fashion week (cuz I'm so beautiful) and when I serve celebrities they should be happy to even get a drink. It doesn't matter what you give them you just give them a drink and they better be fuckin happy." This is where it got awkward because the woman who originally ordered the drink was right there and this chick was basically saying just drink the fucking vodka even though you ordered a water. Quality mess...I'm not judging though, I've worn those shoes many a time.

So as I was trying to get her mind off of the drink and onto being chill she abruptly stated that she needed to be in the pool and dove right in. She said some drunken statement that I ignored as at this point every sound out of her mouth was a nuisance to fix my hearing to and told her that itd be a great idea to go off the diving board. She enthusiastically agreed! Unfortunately some of the motherly figures at the party disagreed with my suggestion and as she boarded the board she was quickly denied and told to go home. HAH.

With my entertainment gone home it was nearly perfect timing when a woman started rolling a doobie on the kitchen table. I nonchalantly walked over and asked her what she was doing. She offered for my participation and the boring atmosphere got a bit more bearable.

The end of the party consisted of a male stripper swinging (no pun intended) through, my staying an hour later than booked (don't worry I got paid for it), and the larger chested topless woman giving me a ride to the train station. That's it, just a ride! I sloppily made it back into the city and into bed. As I was attempting to pass out my stomach informed me that this was not an option and I made a run for the toilet...story of my life.