My Hollywood Memories of Grunting and Sweating
This new job of mine is not too bad, not too bad. I mean, it'll be okay for a while. It's only two days a week, and Mr. Spielberg tips me very well on Fridays. Today was kind of a frustrating day, though. It was a nice trip up Mulholland Drive, kind of tough on the truck to go so far uphill but the paving is really good, and I got buzzed onto the estate with no problem. I nudged a trash can when I backed the truck up to the porch, which I keep doing out of sheer clumsiness, and there was Spielberg, greeting me with a friendly wave just like always. I got out and came around to work the lift gate and he and I shot the breeze about the Dodgers for a couple of minutes (who'd think that such a big time director would follow baseball so closely!), and then I lowered the lift gate all the way and climbed into the rear of the truck as Spielberg went back inside the house. The problem today was that when I wheeled the first wheelbarrow to the edge of the porch, someone at the studio had loaded the damn thing so heavy that I couldn't even tilt it forward all the way, so the thousands of gold coins, loose hundred dollar bills, and shiny red rubies and emeralds spilled over the side a little as I shoved it forward, grunting. Finally I managed to get it all the way onto the porch and I dumped it. That avalanche of clinking as the riches skitter across the porch always kind of perks me up; it's a nice sound. The second and third wheelbarrows full of gold coins and loose hundred dollar bills and shiny red rubies and emeralds went over much easier, but I really have to talk to someone about portioning out these loads. Then the lift gate stuck a little on its way up, God knows why; I just had it serviced. Traffic was unexpectedly heavy today too. But all in all, it's a good gig. Spielberg always waves at me from the house when I leave. Nice guy. Really nice guy. I guess he has somebody to haul in the money after I go. Or maybe he does it himself. Wouldn't surprise me, actually.