Member-only story
The Meter Maid Incident
My first show business job after college was as a menial serf for a Beverly Hills production company that specialized in award shows. I ran errands, made photocopies, distributed scripts and ordered supplies. The low point of each day was lunch. I took meal orders for a dozen staff then drove to multiple restaurants to pick up food.
My nemesis was a portly executive producer named Dennis Goldstein. He threatened to fire me if I didn’t fill lunch orders in an hour. He’d accuse me of screwing up orders then send me out for more food, an excuse for him to get double portions. Restaurants included Nate ’n Al’s for pastrami, Hamburger Hamlet for burgers, Kate Mantilini for roast chicken and Il Fornaio for pasta. Each stop meant I had to find parking, a difficult task in Beverly Hills. Restaurants did not have loading zones and this was the pre-cellphone era so I couldn’t call to have food brought outside.
I carried rolls of quarters and prayed to the parking gods for available spots. Broken parking meters were the bane of my existence. I received a ticket in my first week due to a faulty meter on Canon Drive. The citation was $75, more than half my daily salary of $150. (The company refused to cover parking tickets.)
During pre-production on the Golden Globe Awards, I took lunch orders for two dozen people. I limited choices to two restaurants but…
