"You make movies? Oh, well what's your real job?"
Before I could even muster a response I could feel the energy draining from the room. I could see the optimism and hope fade from her eyes as disappointment and judgement contorted her physical form into an ogre like statue of indifference.
"That is my real job. I work as a videographer. Sometimes that means director, cinematographer, editor, or even..."
"So, you are unemployed?" She snorted at me as she folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. "I knew there was something wrong with you."
I was taken aback; dumbfounded. Just moments before the evening had such promise. I was smart, semi-attractive, decently educated and quite a catch. I was someone she probably didn't deserve. Now, I am a listless dreamer living off the welfare of others.
As she walked away and out of my life I couldn't help thinking about my career as a videographer in the Mid-Western United States. I couldn't help thinking about the beginning of everything.
To Be Continued in:
Amber Heard's Playboy Club vs the Man of Steel - Midwest Moviemaker - Chapter 1