(from the novella, RESCUE ME, 9-1-1)
My next date, Moses Goldstein, sat down at my table.
How’s it going? he asked.
The ring of hair he had left was tied into a ponytail and his shiny scalp was tanned like the rest of his face. His eyes were brown, nose long, and his mouth was lined with a permanent sneer. He was wearing a button-down striped shirt, jeans, and loafers. I smiled and shook his hand. His nametag said ‘Moe.’
Good, I said. How are you?
A little nervous. It’s my first time.
Me too.
Is it okay for you?
It’s okay.
Me too.
Good.
What do you do?
I’m a telephone operator.
Oh, that’s nice.
Yeah.
Do you like it?
It can be stressful, and the hours are weird.
I can imagine. You have a nice voice though.
Thanks.
Moses closed his eyes and said, say something.
What?
Anything.
Why?
I want to hear what you’d sound like on the phone.
It’s different on a phone.
Yeah?
Your voice gets all distorted and the frequencies change. Highs are higher and lows are lower, you know?
Moses opened his eyes and grinned
You have a very nice voice, he said.
Thanks.
Have you ever considered doing voice-overs?
Voice-overs?
I work in the business. I could get you a gig doing voice-overs.
For what?
Animations, kid’s shows. No, wait, he said raising his gold-ringed hand, face lighting up, sneer disappearing for a moment. I got it! you’d be perfect for commercials. Do you have an agent?
No.
I could see—I mean hear, ha!—you getting a lot of stuff. Voices like yours are good for soap, detergent, sponges. Soothing. This is the product your mother would clean the house with. It’s retail psychology. You understand?
No.
Moses frowned and scratched his scalp. So, how about it?
About what?
The commercials, he said, leaning back and laughing. Haven’t you been listening?
I don’t have an agent.
He laughed again. I can find you one, no problem.
Why, what do you do?
He looked shocked for a second. What, you’ve never seen my name?
No.
Have you ever watched the show Amazing Car Crashes?
No.
It’s on the Discovery Channel—he was getting very excited now.
Oh.
Well the guy who does the voice on that, you know the (and here he started talking low and sharp like an announcer) This happy couple was driving home from their new cottage when, BAM!—he hit the table—they were sideswiped by a drunk trucker. That guy is my brother in law.
Is he nice?
What do you mean, ‘is he nice’?
Just that.
I guess he’s nice.
So what do you do?
I was telling you for chrissake! he said, slapping his forehead.
Oh.
Well that guy is my brother in law.
Right.
And I got him that job.
How?
Because I’m the executive assistant to the assistant producer of the show Sharks Unlimited, and the director of Sharks Unlimited is friends with the chief editor of Amazing Car Crashes.
How does that tie into advertising?
Duh, silly. Because last season I was the personal assistant of the co-writer of Backyard Discovery and became great personal friends with the host, Susana Marsh, who started her career doing toothpaste commercials. So all I have to do is call my good friend Susana and get the number of her agent, and then get that agent to call you. What better interview than on the phone! ha! and you can hop on your road to stardom!
I don’t know, I said.
Come on. Just give me your number and we can work out the particulars over dinner.
Yeah?
He took out his paper and a pen. He only had his first date’s number.
Just give me your number.
I looked at Moses and then at the paper and wrote a fake one.
Hey! he said. Our numbers both end in ‘4145’!
Hey, I repeated.
I think that’s a sign.
A sign?
Providence, in other words. I think we’re going to be glad we met each other.
I hope so.
Let me give you my number.
I took my paper out of my purse and handed it to him. He frowned when he saw the blank page, then wrote his out.
No luck?
Not yet.
Are you feeling lucky?
Excuse me?
I asked if you were feeling lucky.
Why?
Because the business is all luck, Debbie. Can I call you Debbie? The business is who you know and what you can offer.
What does that have to do with luck?
Who you know is luck, and so is having the kind of mind to sell yourself.
Sell myself?
Take my case for example. I was in my twenties when I started in the business, and through hard work and making the right impression, look where I got! An executive assistant! It’s all about who you meet, and you’ve met me. Consider it luck.
Is there good money in commercials?
Is there good money in commercials? Is there good money in commercials?! How much do you make?
Excuse me?
One minute! the hostess shouted.
How much do you make?
That’s none of your business.
Come on.
Sixty K a year with good benefits.
Not bad.
Yeah. How much do voice-over people make?
Not that much.
Oh.
But hell, do novelists work for the money?
I don’t know any novelists.
Well they’d be crazy to. I can tell you this: they work for the glory.
What glory is there in commercials?
What glory? What glory?! Only the glory of your friends and family turning on the TV to hear your voice sharing the exciting whitening properties of new bleach-treated dental floss. Do you have dark areas that whitening strips just can’t reach? Try… He framed his hands into a rectangle, looked at me through it, winked. I can see it now!
Thanks.
And don’t think that I’m looking to gain from this. No way. That’s not the way I roll. There are a lot of sharks in my business, but honestly, and I know it sounds tacky, I just want to see others succeed. I guess I’m a little selfless—but maybe not. A rising tide lifts all ships, or so they say, and when my friends succeed, I do too. It’s common sense.
Time’s up!
Well it’s been great getting to know you, Moses said, rising. I’ll be sure to call you soon. We’ll get this set up right away. And he was off to the next table.
Copyright © 2010 by Daniel Shawn Otis
