© 2012 Timmy Tamisiea. All rights reserved. 911_1315423866

344/365 – Almost Famous

So, I’m sitting in the 3rd floor kitchen in the Conan offices — also known as the monologue interns’ writers room — finishing up my second round of batches when a sketch writer comes in.   He looks around the room, a confused and slightly panicked look on his face.  Going from one intern to the next, he stops at my fellow Monologue Intern, Jason.  “You.  Jason, right?  You have things you have to do?  Premises?”  We’re all pretty much done with our batch, so Jason is free to help out.  “We need you for a sketch.  Where’s Ryan?”  He’s our supervisor.  I tell him Ryan’s in a monologue meeting.  This guy gets Ryan’s permission to take Jason away.  “Jason, how tall are you?”  “Six feet.”  “What’s you chest size?”  Jason has no clue.  No matter, they grab him and head off to wardrobe.

Jason gets to be in a really funny sketch that I can’t tell you about.  I can say, it’s damn funny and involves little people.  Good for him.  Of course I’m jealous.  To say I’m not would be an outright lie.  However, it happens and I’ve been in this business long enough to know that it’s all about luck

Or someone else’s luck . . .

After rehearsal, one of the other sketch writers comes into the kitchen.  I’m teaching Jason how to say different types of artificial sweetener.  The writer chimes in, I tirn around, I say that he is saying “Aspartame” right when he introduces himself.  He gives me a look of weird recognition and confusion.  Then he says, “Ohhhh.  You’re the one I wanted for that sketch.  We were trying to think of someone and I remembered you.”  The other writer got it mixed up.

Almost famous.

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