Being an extra in a 2018 romcom

I woke up at 7am, a bad nights sleep leaving me bitter and angry, but for a good reason. I hop on the train. trying to avoid my friend at the station, its too early to deal with him, especially with me at this state.

After a bitter rant over my phone about my housemates and my nights sleep, i arrived at the meeting point. Today was the day of danny boyle. The day i was in an extra.

Immediately the diversity of age hit me, middle aged people and bored students. Even more striking was the disconnect between the people doing it for fun and the people doing it as an ACTOR *dramatic jazz hands*.

The woman running it was nice, in a "cousin's mum/home makeover TV producer" way. She was fun and bubbly in an i-have-my-life-together way. She was irish with a mum bobcut and a tv clean smile.

The other side of the coin was a seperate Irishman. Older with messy hair and a slight "crazed director/probably a witch" vibe. She was clearly the badcop to her counterparts good cop.

I hung out witha gaggle of teenagers, including: a flamboyant fillipeno man with a bright hawaiian shirt and a crystal around his neck (love quarts - he informed me - attracts love and positive energy)

an asian brother/sister duo with enough awkward anxiety between them to make up for everyone else, a black guy and a black woman from london (completely unrelated) who were both really into acting circles.

One of our group - the teenage black actor guy - was selected for "the upper crust group" ... which sounds fancy until you realise thats the name of the cafe. Still he was lucky enough to get free food and drinks.

Meanwhile i chatted with rose quarts guy and actress girl, releasing conspiracy theories about the film and trying not to watch the actors jog past. It wasnt until i left that i was told that had become my mark because of how static our group were and how naturally we got on.

Later, he was in a scene with the main actor. We waved at him supportingly, which although looked like an awkward family thing was a nice gesture ... except the main actor waved back, half sincerely half actor-smiling. We watched half wincing as he gently explained that they were waving at him. I doubt we were allowed to interact with the actors, which made it weirder.

The other half of the day was spent doing laps of a train station over and over again like clockwork figures that clicked back into place given a shout. It was good fun but also exhausting. I slept so well that night.

Being an extra hit all my needs: talking to strangers, keeping healthy without feeling like its work, above minimum wage pay AND good free food. It was fab and i wanna do it again!

almost homeless in scotland

gather around children, let me tell you the tale, of how my phone went down for the count in the middle of Edinburgh, surrounded by strangers.

so im having a lovely time, the free tourguide is great, im hanging with a cute french girl and a strapping aussie (both of which i would have made out with given permission, but hey ho.) scottish people are lovely, but my phones been playing up a bit. i manage to get a flicker of phone life an realise my parents have been panicking because their son is awol and not answering his phone.  this was the first domino

i go to the payphone and tell my folks whats happening, and then try and move my way to a Samsung shop, completely without any directions other than locals advice. it was then that they told me they couldn’t repair it without it costing £300ish. NOPE.  it also dawns on me that without my banking apps, the money on my card is a mystery number in 2 digits. fuck. my bus tickets are on the phone. double fuck. all my local advice is usually a google away. NOPE. triple fuck

so i buy a cheap nokia phone, desperate times call for desperate measures, im pissed to the point where im warning the staff before they serve me and explaining what happens to me, but i go about my day and buy myself a pork role. later in the afternoon however, i try and log into my emails and safe my bus ticket. except i have plot convenient amnesia. the nice frenchman who lent his phone to me was cool, except i get myself locked out of my email. my bus ticket is unretrieveable.

i then try to call megabus, they don’t give me my details and i’m thinking “OH FUCK.  I’M STUCK IN SCOTLAND WITHOUT ACCOMEDATION”. after faffing around, the clock getting dangerously close to the bus times they finally begin to help. i’m checking a stranger’s smartphone for my emails, and the stranger is calling megabus (where he works) they answer and inform me that my ticket is booked FOR THE NEXT DAY. thank god they allowed me to stowaway on a bus a day early.

also i discovered i had £20 to survive on for 2 days including 1 day in London. only just made it home

MORAL OF THE STORY - DONT RELY ON YOUR PHONE. PRINT EVERYTHING AND SHUFFLE YOUR BANK ACCOUNTS AROUND BEFORE SOLO TRAVELLING


BONUS ROUND - power moves from  people i met in scotland:

 - the soft spoken, lilted accent kilt salesman/dad ON A CIRCA 2012 HOVERBOARD. he was already tall and really well dressed, but the board added an extra foot. within the first 3 sentences he spoke was a pun. i want to be this man!

 - the american girl wearing literal prosthetic devil horns, when asked about them she smiled and said “yeah the’re kinda my thing” shutting down all haters and making me hella jealous of her power

 - the cool middle aged woman i spoke to in London en route, she was really worldly and kinda implied she was bi(?) as we discussed SoHo, London, and how to travel and have actual adventures