Back At the Office
On Wednesday, I was back on location, at Waterloo International train station, in London. I had a comfortable call time of 9:30AM, so I didn't have to get up as early as I did on Tuesday. Film making involves a lot of waiting around, while cameras and equipment are set up. Unlike the day before, those of us who were background artists didn't spend as much time waiting in our base at the station (a pub rented out for the occasion). This time, we were let out onto the floor of the station much earlier in the day. As it was a sunny day, the station seemed very bright. Although there was still a lot of waiting around, there was so much more to see out on the floor, as compared to downstairs in the pub.
There were many attractive women strolling through the station. There may have been attractive looking men, but I don't tend to notice the men. When I observe people walking through the station, I like to imagine where they are going. Are they locals, or visitors? Business people, or tourists? Lovers or colleagues? I would really enjoy having a seat at one of the cafes or restaurants in the station, where I could sit all day with a laptop and write about the various things and people I would observe.
One thing I particularly enjoyed was seeing how many passers by would stop to see what was going on. The lights and cameras always tend to attract attention. It was fun telling them, "we're making a film," when they would ask what was happening. It was fun seeing their eyes sparkle with excitement. There's something about film making that makes even very mature persons come over with a feeling of magical delight, reminiscent of childhood. In one scene, we were standing in front of the train departures display board, looking up at the board as if we were passengers checking the departure platform of our desired train. The old, mechanical board has been replaced by a couple of electronic ones. I miss the old mechanical system. When the display would change on the old system, little digit tiles would flip over, making a flapping noise. I loved the sound of the rapidly flipping tiles. The new electronic system is silent. While looking at the board, I noticed a train departing for Basingstoke. It stopped at Hook, the village I used to live in with my beautiful ex-wife, the evil Black Queen. If I was still married, I would be catching that train. I looked around and wondered what I would do if I saw her strolling through the station. Thankfully she rarely ventured into London by train, as she didn't like big cities. A fellow background artist, an Indian man who said I could call him "Victor" and who befriended me the previous day, offered me a couple of vegetable samosas, from a Tupperware container in his bag. Gratefully, I accepted. There's nothing like vegetable samosas to take your mind off your evil ex-wife.
There were many attractive women strolling through the station. There may have been attractive looking men, but I don't tend to notice the men. When I observe people walking through the station, I like to imagine where they are going. Are they locals, or visitors? Business people, or tourists? Lovers or colleagues? I would really enjoy having a seat at one of the cafes or restaurants in the station, where I could sit all day with a laptop and write about the various things and people I would observe.
One thing I particularly enjoyed was seeing how many passers by would stop to see what was going on. The lights and cameras always tend to attract attention. It was fun telling them, "we're making a film," when they would ask what was happening. It was fun seeing their eyes sparkle with excitement. There's something about film making that makes even very mature persons come over with a feeling of magical delight, reminiscent of childhood. In one scene, we were standing in front of the train departures display board, looking up at the board as if we were passengers checking the departure platform of our desired train. The old, mechanical board has been replaced by a couple of electronic ones. I miss the old mechanical system. When the display would change on the old system, little digit tiles would flip over, making a flapping noise. I loved the sound of the rapidly flipping tiles. The new electronic system is silent. While looking at the board, I noticed a train departing for Basingstoke. It stopped at Hook, the village I used to live in with my beautiful ex-wife, the evil Black Queen. If I was still married, I would be catching that train. I looked around and wondered what I would do if I saw her strolling through the station. Thankfully she rarely ventured into London by train, as she didn't like big cities. A fellow background artist, an Indian man who said I could call him "Victor" and who befriended me the previous day, offered me a couple of vegetable samosas, from a Tupperware container in his bag. Gratefully, I accepted. There's nothing like vegetable samosas to take your mind off your evil ex-wife.
posted by Joey B at 9:54 AM
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