My Dad, the Private Eye: The Falling Star

CHAPTER 5

Dad had gotten a real job! Some people might not call hanging around in the background of a movie set a real job, but it paid real money, so that made it a real job – which was more than his silly private eye dreams were. I hoped that becoming a movie extra would put those thoughts out of Dad's head.

But with real jobs come real problems. Like having to get up at 5:00 a.m. to get to the movie studio by 6:00. Movie people work really long hours.

Dad showed up at the studio, rubbing his tired eyes like everyone else. The extras got filed into the main sound stage which was this big, cavernous room filled with not one but several sets, each one rigged with lights, cables, metal stands and a whole lot of other movie stuff. Dad had never seen a real movie set before, so he was blown away by all the fancy cameras and cranes and dollies.

But they didn't want the extras on the set right away, so they led them down a hallway to a place called "Extras Holding". As they were walking there, Dad noticed some doors that had stars on them and names under the stars. One of the names was "Patty Delaroy".

Now, I didn't know who Patty Delaroy was, and I'm guessing you don't either, but my dad sure did, and he was really impressed. And he was even more impressed when, through a crack in the door, he saw Patty Delaroy herself putting on make-up! There was a make-up lady trying to help her, but Patty just slapped her hand away and said, "You make me look old."

Dad had to move on with the other extras, and they ended up in a room with a bunch of tables and chairs to sit and wait at. So he sat down, all excited that he was going to be in a movie with Patty Delaroy. But nobody else seemed to care. In fact, they were all instantly on their phones and laptops, seemingly knowing they wouldn't be needed on the set for a while.

Dad turned to a guy next to him. "Did you know Patty Delaroy was in this movie?" he asked, star-struck.

Without even looking up from his computer, the man said, "Yeah, and Rafe Blight is directing. They pull a lot of old names out of the mothballs for these cheapie pieces of crap."

Dad was a little taken aback. I guess working in the movies makes you jaded, he thought. But Patty Delaroy was a big deal to him, and so was Ralph "Rafe" Blight, for that matter. They'd both been kind of big names in Hollywood about twenty-five years ago.

Rafe Blight had started out in the movie business as this big risk-taking newcomer who made a low-budget thriller that made a ton of money. And Patty was a beautiful blonde bombshell who everybody wanted to work with after she got nominated for an Emmy Award for a guest spot on some cop show. So they both started doing big movies – and both became big Hollywood jerks. I guess they thought they were going to be stars for the rest of their lives, but that doesn't usually happen in show business. Some people become legends and people always love them, but most movie stars and big directors just fade away. Then they retire to some farm in Montana or Alberta somewhere. Or they keep making movies, but the movies just get smaller and smaller.

And they didn't get much smaller than the movie Dad was working on, Mantis Attack 4. Patty and Blight weren't big Hollywood stars anymore and their bank accounts were now small, but their egos were still big, so they worked on as many Canadian cheapies as they could.

Even so, Dad found out that Patty's paycheck was probably half the budget of the whole movie since the movie distributor could use her name to sell the film, even after all these years. But she was also the reason the movie was a couple days behind schedule since she wasn't very cooperative, and there were rumors she popped a lot of pills.

Dad looked around and noticed there was a table with a whole bunch of food on it. Yay, free breakfast! Dad bounded over to the table and started loading a paper plate with donuts and pastries. But he noticed that nobody else was joining him; they were all just getting coffee and sodas. Dad turned to a lady in the coffee line. "Nobody wants donuts?"

The lady just looked at him strangely. "Craft services? Not today!"

Dad didn't know what was so special about today. And he didn't know what "craft services" was either. And though he would later learn that "craft services" was the movie set name for "the snack table", he wouldn't learn why nobody was eating today until it was too late.

But for now, Dad just loaded up on all the free food. He didn't know how long this job as an extra was going to last, and he wanted to get the most out of it while he could.

He also knew that this wasn't going to be his next career. He still had his hopes set on being a private eye. But he was bothered by me telling him his ad was lame. Actually, "kinda pathetic" was the way I'd described it, as you'll recall. So he decided to watch it on his phone to see if I was right.

Dad started the video on YouTube: "Hi, I'm Drew Winnette," he said, the ugly motel room in the background. "I'm a private investigator. Kind of. You ever wondered how a private eye finds a missing person? Or trails a cheating husband? So have I! So hire me, and I'll figure it out. I'll try stuff the other guys won't even consider – 'cause I don't know any better. Hire me, Drew Winnette, 'Your On the Fly Private Eye', 'cause I'll put my ass on the line for you!"

Dad hung his head. "Kinda pathetic is right," he mumbled to himself. "Pathetic, desperate and just plain stupid."

Maybe being a movie extra could be his next career. At least you got free food.