I am thinking about it because of this commercial shoot I worked on, recently. It was for Sprint (maybe you will see my face in their stores, Sprint customers!) and I was coupled-up “on a date” with actor Armen Taylor. We had a lot of fun on our Sprint date, taking selfies on Santa Monica Pier one evening by the beach.
Getting paid to enjoy a gorgeous sunset is not horrible.
Armen and I were killing some time while the other actors (in the top pic) were shooting their scenes, by chatting about many things. He went to Brown University, I went to… um, art school. Our lively conversation also covered: 1. This app that reveals all the planets as if you’re looking at them through your phone’s camera (– obvs I was impressed. SATURN??! RIGHT HERE IN THE PARKING LOT??!?!?!?), 2. My remarking at “how many freakin kinds of bikes ARE there?” as cyclists zipped by on the bike path, and 3. The one thing that is sure to come out of every youngin’s mouth: “Wait – So, how old are you?” Like, “Just checking, to see if you’re gonna get my Family Guy references…”
I had all my makeup on by this point, so I felt comfortable not lying. Or more specifically, not looking into his clear blue eyes and saying “To you – Old.”
I silently wondered to myself if this qualified me as a Cougar. And are Cougars ever broke? I always imagined them as rich middle aged women, living off some killer alimony, drinking scotch and sodas all day, with one eye on Vanity Fair, and one leering eye on the pool boy.
This is the ad on TV. It’s worth a watch, just for “Ugh…. meat!” which is my favorite part.
There was a young Jewish boy who I delivered dinner to, in Bel Air, one night. He spoke like a wisened man, and tipped me well. He opened the door with, “Why, I didn’t expect such a beautiful delivery person this evening” and I hoped my eyebrows didn’t portray “Tiny tween, what soft cheeks you have” as I tried to figure out what you would call a situation where the gal is old and broke, and the young man is the disgustingly wealthy one.
…I dunno. That may be crossing into a different playing field, there…