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“Always going on about climate change.”
(via some dude on Facebook, so if anyone knows the original source, please let us know)
(via johndylanger)
I originally posted this in 3 parts a while ago, and now I am re-posting it. It is long…
Part One:
Lets face it: being an actress is not the most immediately lucrative of professions, and it is especially difficult to live on a web series salary. So, after wrapping my latest project I endeavored to restart the great job search. It is difficult to find a part time job as an actress; one needs a position that allows you to change your schedule according to auditions and take time off whenever you book things. While the reality is that the bookings are rare, it is hard to explain the situation to a potential employer. And I am an honest person, so I feel obligated to drop the dirty “I am also an actress” bomb in my introduction email. I tend to nestle it in between my stellar GPA and my volunteer work, hoping that these bragging points will somehow detract from the hideous scarlet letters “ACTRESS.”
So when Dr. Lynn Kesselman called, saying that he was impressed by my resume and wondered if I was interested in starting work tomorrow, I was exceptionally – albeit cautiously - excited. “You know that I am an actress, right?”
“Yes,” he replied, “We can play your schedule by ear. Lets just start tomorrow and see if it’s even a good fit.
“Sounds great!” and it really, really did. “I’ll see you tomorrow Dr. Lynn!”
“See you tomorrow baby”
Wait – did he just say baby? He couldn’t have. I mean…Baby sounds a lot like Katy. He must have said Katy…right?
Part Two
The next day when I arrived at his house in Brentwood, I was overwhelmed; this wasn’t just a house this was a cover story for Architectural Digest. We had yet to discuss my rate, but after seeing this place it was clear he had some dough to spend. I buzzed my employer at the gate and pondered what I was about to experience. Who was this person?
And then the front door opened.
Whatever I was expecting Dr. Kesselman to look like, this certainly was not it. I was hoping to be greeted by a kindly old man in need of a friend and maybe some light grocery shopping and correspondence. We would talk about life, and he would tell me of his experiences while we sipped tea and he gave me love advice; like Kate Winslet and Eli Wallach’s characters in The Holiday. Instead, Dr. Lynn Kesselman more closely resembled Harry Potter’s Uncle Vernon Dursley. “Come in,” he wheezed. I didn’t remember the doctor wheezing on the phone last night.
The inside of this magic castle was even more beautiful than the outside. He led me to his impressive office and set me up at one of the desks. He was smiling in an off-putting way. To be fair I think this habit is typical of his generation; they hold eye contact for too long, like they are reading your soul. “Tell me about yourself honey.” I started to describe my various achievements but he obviously wasn’t listening; he was waiting for an opportunity to jump in and tell his story. So I let him have the floor, which he was obviously unaccustomed to sharing.
He was a mathematical genius (said in such a way as if he believed this to be common household knowledge) who had traveled the world, made a fortune, hobnobbed with celebrities and royalty. He had consequently lost said fortune, become a manic-depressive, gone through rehab, developed a self-help spirituality system and eventually regained his fortune. He had published 5 books on this system, which as it happens, incorporates many tenants of Judaism. So much so, that his GENIUS of a mind has apparently reformed the way that Orthodox Judaism conceptually viewed the Torah, and he was now being ordained as an Orthodox Rabbi. Today, he needed my help writing his speech.
“Ok…” I said.
“An actress…” he mused “ I used to date actresses. They were always great in bed. Is that still true?”
I was shocked…but maybe he didn’t know he was being inappropriate? Old people say pretty raunchy things sometimes – he probably didn’t mean anything too untoward. Plus, I am supposed to respect my elders so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I uncomfortably avoided his eyes, and came up with the dodgiest answer I could muster
“I don’t know. Actresses today are pretty self conscious soooo probably not. I mean, I don’t know….”
“That’s a shame.” Then with that creepy smile, he started dictating.
The thing about old self-proclaimed genius soon to be ordained rabbis is that they think they are the cat’s pajamas. I mean, Dr. Lynn fancies himself a real hot potato. As we worked he attempted to make witty puns that were neither puns nor were they witty. Such gems as “that damn apple has been stuck in our collective intestine for years!” or, “If the bible is so good, why doesn’t God take a look?” Dr Lynn would make a joke, and then pause until I laughed. Which I shamefully did; I have never felt like such a sell out.
Then started the screaming.
By screaming I do mean, blood curdling-my legs have been chopped off-and my face is being bashed in by a baseball bat, horror movie screaming.
“HELP ME OH GOD HELP ME!”
Dr. Lynne finished his thought on Sin and looking towards his opulent window, calmly said; “Excuse me for a moment. I need to go help my wife.”
WHAT THE FUCK? Had I stumbled upon a real life horror story? Was this horny old man holding a basement full of women he had tricked into a day of assistant work? Maybe if I ran out the back door….
But my hesitation cost me any chance of escape. Soon he was back, and this time he had a bottle of wine in his hand.
“Is everything alright…?”
“Oh fine fine. My wife is constipated.”
And with that, my new wheezy RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC Rabbi friend smiled his creepy smile, and proceeded to open the bottle. It was 10:00 am.
“This should get the creative juices flowing! You’re in for a treat my dear you’re in for a treat.”
We continued to work, and as Dr Lynn plowed his way through a bottle of undoubtedly expensive wine, his pontificating became louder and his sentences made less and less sense. He was on a roll, and I was feeling lightheaded. At one point he used the bathroom and stumbled back into the room stating proudly that he always closed the lid to the toilet when a lady was present. While that was true, he had instead forgotten to either flush or wash his hands
Then he paused for a moment, and called out “IRA get in here!”
Now who is Ira?
Ira, it turns out, is no one too remarkable. An equally brittle old man – except tall and thin. Ira wandered slowly into Dr. Lynn’s office, and would have seemed vaguely distinguished if it wasn’t for the giant booger dangling from his nose.
· “Ira meet the lovely Katy. She is…helping me today.”
Part Three
“Charmed.”
But he wasn’t charmed. Ira was suspicious. He was a suspicious liar. Like a villain out of a novel Ira narrowed his eyes, the classic signal that he was watching me.
The doctor wanted Ira to read what we had written so far, and he obliged like a dutiful puppy. While Ira looked over the Great Ordination Speech, we used the opportunity to take a “break.” Doctor Lynn wanted to show me the property. I was trapped!
The tour logically began in the bedroom, “Which,” he said “was for our playtime,” and then he showed me his library, and the expansive backyard.
“Here is where we take our wine and smoke our grass,” he gestured towards a Zen-like oasis next to an infinity pool. “Do you smoke grass?”
“No. I mean yes. But no I don’t care for it.”
As we stared over his property, I could feel the uneasiness creeping up my spine. I was feeling a little dizzy; this situation couldn’t be happening!
“You are comfortable with me, yes?” he asked, edging a little closer.
No. No. No I was not. I was contemplating punching him square in the face and fleeing, but the moment was mercifully broken by the perfidious Ira. He trundled out upon the veranda, transcript in hand, and said;
“It is magnificent sir, truly remarkable. I dare say a modern classic in the making.”
BULLSHIT! I knew for a fact that document was a drunken mess; Ira had exposed himself as a kiss ass. I no longer feared Ira – I pitied him.
“May I retire to my room now?” Ira asked.
“Of course. I shall call you a limo for your errands,” the doctor magnanimously replied, giving me a little wink, He wanted me to know just how virtuous a man I was in the presence of.
“Thank you sir.”
Seriously - WHO WAS IRA? He lived there? Why did he live there? And why oh god why didn’t he blow his nose?
Desperate for a way out, I was mustering up the courage to take a stand and declare righteously that, “I think you are incredibly inappropriate and I refuse to subject myself to this experience any more.”
It was time to strategize. I needed to return to the office to gather my things, so it was imperative that I time my outburst appropriately. I needed to remove myself from this property efficiently and with the least amount of awkwardness possible. My heart was echoing in my ears and, not gonna lie, my armpits were getting a little sweaty. HEY! Maybe that would turn him off?
As we walked back inside, Dr Lynn dropped a bomb; “We never discussed rate; I am paying you 20 dollars an hour.”
And like that, the wheezy geezer was back in the game! He had hooked me. I began justifying his behavior. His indiscretions suddenly seemed more tolerable, harmless even? Maybe I was being too judgmental. This wasn’t a ‘sexual harassment in the workplace ad’ circa 1998. “Get over yourself, Stoll! Accept his generous salary…”
….but then Dr. Lynn asked if I was interested in older men.
I mean, come on. this asshole was blatantly propositioning me; suddenly my courage came out of hiding.
“No,” I said. “I absolutely am not. I like my men to be as young and sexy as possible.”
“You can’t blame me for trying, “ he continued the hard press; with nothing to lose Dr. Kesselman really laid his cards on the table. “You know the bible not only states that it is ok for married men to commit adultery, but also that we are allowed to have concubines. Imagine that!”
Ok, maybe this was a sexual harassment ad.
“Well, I guess its VERY lucky for me that I don’t believe in a lot of what the bible states. And I feel obligated to tell you that nothing we wrote today was either interesting or groundbreaking. In fact, I would venture to say it was borderline pithy and trite. You should probably rework it with your next assistant.”
So it seemed I was not destined to continue my tenure as a doctor’s assistant; in the long run I think it was a solid decision. He gave me a check for the hours I had worked – 80 dollars and said, “Imagine how much you would make if you were into older men!”
I looked him dead in the eye for the first time that day and replied,
“Dr. Kesselman, I don’t need your money. I can make my own.”
IT WAS LIKE I WAS IN A MOVIE! AND I WAS THE HEROINE! AND HE WAS THE EVIL BRIDGE TROLL THAT I HAD JUST DEFEATED!
Four eternal seeming hours after I had arrived, I found myself leaving this grand mansion in Brentwood for the first and last time. Although I had hated every second of the experience, I felt strangely euphoric at having survived.
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I try not to push fundraising opportunities too often, only when they are important to me. My Dad works for The Second Opinion, an amazing agency that serves cancer patients in California. He is currently raising money for this agency by participating in the 2012 Human Race with none other than our family dog Murphy (I know most of you are more familiar with Henry the cat, but Murphy is the best golden in the state of California). Anyway. If you have a few extra bucks, and hate cancer as much as I do, consider helping my Super Dad be super awesome by clicking the link below!!
http://marinhumanrace.org/goto/thesecondopinionmichael
How Comedian Daniel O'Brien Turned One Joke Into a Major Book Deal -
Congratulations Buddy!!
That’s right! Everyone’s favorite Daniel sold a book! About fighting presidents! You’ll read it! When it’s available! Hey, everybody! Dog pile on Daniel!
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Henry the Hero
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Hey, call your Mom. She loves you a lot.