Crafty

            Being on set is equivalent to grocery shopping on an unlimited budget: by the outset of the day, my bag is filled with an assortment of granola bars, candy, and condensed pastries.  Although I feel no shame in my endeavors, I remain sly in my food collection scheme; I neither wish to upset the crew nor the editor, who ultimately controls my film fate.  I begin my three- step process by navigating toward crafty, grabbing a granola bar, and quickly meandering back to my purse.  I then slip the bar into my purse, and wander purposefully around the set.  Finally, within a five minute interval, I engage in deep conversation directly behind crafty.  I now have easy access to crafty, and begin the collection process once anon.

            I willingly participate in unpaid student films because A, the production values are surprisingly large, B, my school’s program is highly respected in the professional realm and festival circuit, and C, the free food.  I oftentimes hear students complain about craft service’s low quality food options, but I am thoroughly pleased by the bags of McDonalds French fries, five- thousand calorie Cinnamon Rolls, and unlimited Capri Suns.  Despite the continuity issues that this type of crafty poses, (as I, undoubtedly, put on significant amounts of weight within each six day shoot,) I can’t help but cherish the exorbitant amount of Kit Kat bars and pizza for lunch.  And while half the crew prays to the porcelain goddess that is the on- set toilet, I hold down excessive amounts of crafty.

            By the outset of each shoot day, we are several hours behind schedule.  This becomes a non- issue once the producer ‘accidently’ adjusts the shoot hours, maintaining a twelve- hour façade.  At the onset of each shoot, I promise to respect myself and insist on leaving at the outset of the twelve hours.  Yet, by the end of each day, I willingly stay the extra hours, skip class, and slowly but surly make it out alive.