My mission was to brave the morning rush hour to visit the famed Century Plaza hotel. I knew I'd get an unwelcome update on the overdeveloped nature of the neighborhood (and hotel, as well), and also how far along we are to a subway line that will be ready by the 2028 Summer Olympics. Really, it will be finished by then, honest! But it was also a state of the union on TV, and my presence had been requested. Valet parking at a swanky, historical hotel and free food. This should be a swift acceptance, no? Well...no, because a former boss, one of the "Big 3 of Assholes" of my career, was rumored to also be in attendance. How the hell?! I made a personal dedication to never communicate nor see that asswipe ever again. Now I might have a run-in? Fuck that.
I tried to reason with myself: there are many, many more positives from this, and besides: it's a massive ballroom (haha!), it'll be easy to move around, get up and leave, so on. OK...I can do this, I'm an adult, but I'll be on guard.
"Should've taken the helicopter" I thought as I crossed into a second hour in an attempt to get there from Dealville. But I made it and was whisked downstairs so the main zone. Breakfast treats were spread out, and I looked into the room. TV's Byron Allen was onstage talking about how great he is, and I figured this would go on for a while. (He ran over his time, no surprise) Having a quick bite gave me a chance to get the lay of the land. Escape routes. Labyrinths, wide and narrow. "Break away rooms" My head is on a constant swivel.
I meet someone who asks me if my channel is interested in an all-new slate of Korean dramas. A slide show is presented. I politely pass, but the interaction has been positive: if this asswipe is around, I had a cover. Out of nowhere, as I attempt to go into the room again, an old co-worker walks out.
"Hey man! Hey - just so you know: he's here." I brace myself. Had he seen him? "Yeah, he's at a table in the middle." OK, so now that Byron's self-love fest is over, I can position myself accordingly: in the back toward the shadows.
After 2 discussions, I head out for what was creatively titled a "networking break" and get more tea. Again, head on a swivel. I run into an old NBCU boss - a pleasant surprise. We catch up and I turn my back to the rest of the crowd. Thankfully, the old boss, a good one, didn't notice the pivot. The old co-worker walks past me again, taking a donut to Poundtown. "Hey man, did you see? Donuts! And yeah...he's talking to Fremantle people; he won't bother you." I appreciate the sunshine ray, but I don't believe it for a second. If I'm in his line of sight, who knows what bullshit he'll start with? I turn my back again and we talk college football gambling and his upcoming Vegas trip, but we're dragged in to the room again. My joy returns to concern as I take a circuitous road in.
Before another panel, I find an even more hidden space in the back. A yahoo gets on stage. "I know we have a lot of people standing back there, but there are open spots up front!" No dice. I let others talk, take a few notes, and notice that many people walking around can't even tell I'm there. I'm not looking at who's walking around, either. Then, I think I hear someone say his name. Aaaaand I'm out!
Lunch is being set up, but I'm starting to run things in my mind: his complete lack of awareness. His inability to take anything I've said as fact. The dread on hour-plus calls where the micromanaging was off the charts. The fact that I started to take something called "Digestive Advantage" just to get through dealing with him. And, finally, the unabashed glee where I told him, screen to screen, nearly 5 years ago that I was leaving. He was stunned, and hurt, but not hurt that I, Trip Darvez, would no longer be under his purview. It was that all his work, his case to heap scorn, cut my salary, whatever bullshit he was planning, it was all for naught.
I've worked where I am right now for longer than anywhere else in my career. The length of some of those stays wasn't my own choice, of course. The ones where I made the choice are often quite cathartic. At my current place, there once was a contract negotiation, and he was going to be on a call. Our CFO doesn't like him either, but he never had to work with him, so I passed on being included. Curiosity got the best of me, though: I had to know how it ended. "Oh, he kept asking why you weren't there. He said 'You know, let's get Trip on this because I think he'll best understand why--' I cut him off and told him you were busy." Sound logic. I'm busy not working with asswipes like that one.
I meet a guy who makes YouTube channels for shows and production companies. He's just made a MST3K channel, so we go off on that tangent. Lunch, of unknown specificities, is served. I figure I've done my time, and head to the lobby and ask for my ride. I meet Angel, a valet who's been at the hotel since the early 70s. We bemoan the new buildings, including the out-of-place towers behind the majestic hotel. I look across the street at the CAA Building. "I first came out here and it was the Shubert Theater over there, and ABC over there." Angel remembers. "They had tennis courts on the roof." Yes, they did, and a movie theater, and shops, and good restaurants. (You can see a small photo of it on the bottom left of the collage on the top of the page) I rolled in with the Saturn decades ago; parking out front with Sue reading the Thomas Guide as I interviewed. That day began it all. Nothing lasts forever, or has to, but thankfully, as he and I point out the good and bad of what's been built since then, we both realize that we've survived. Thrived is someone else's judgement. "I can make my own shift now, so it's not so bad driving from Garden Grove." Oof, with a drive like that, you'd better. You earned it, too. All I knew, driving these familiar streets back to the 405, was that if I had to look around, looking backwards at my career, where I stand currently, and of the future, I'm glad those asswipes aren't there, too.
Of course, Angel was too polite to mention the asswipes he's had in his career, but we stood together in a location with old removed, new included, and... we're still there. The other valet was given a trip probably too generous, but I was in a happy mood. And why not? I'd avoided an annoyance, talked deals, learned a bit, and ate a free breakfast. In this town, how could it get any better?
