Not That Glamorous

I ran into one of the writers in the office kitchen. I asked how it was going, and he said, “Oh, you know, we’re trapped in that room for hours.”

“Working hard?” I ask.

“Not really,” he says, honestly. “We’re just sitting in there, talking about stories.”

“Man, I wish I had your job.”

Then, inexplicably, the conversation took a turn for the condescending: “It’s not really that glamorous.”

Yeah, thanks, jerk. I realize that no job is tons o’ fun all day long. That’s a hobby, not a job. But when you get paid a minimum of $30,000 to just think of stuff, for a single episode, don’t try to downplay how cool your job is.

Whenever a producer starts complaining, I always think, “What kind of car do you drive? Where is your home? The one that you own, by the way, not rent.”

Seriously, I’m not bitter. I know these guys work hard, and I know I have to pay my dues. But dude, pick a more appropriate person to complain to.