YEAR ONE: OF MICE AND MINIONS
MAY 2022
The rubber on the plane tires was still burning from touchdown onto the LAX runway, and I was already refreshing my LinkedIn feed like a madman. Hoping for anything to relieve the pent-up anxiety of the past 6 months. Any application status update. A recruiter message. A new job posting. Any sign of hope for optimal entry level position that would miraculously open up.
For the next three months, I applied to any job that would get my foot into the front door.
Executive Assistant. Production Assistant. Office Assistant. Mailroom Assistant. Mailroom clerk. Backlot barista.
Entry Level Assistant to the Jr. assistant’s Dog Sitter – 2-3 years-experience preferred. $17.00/Hr.
Well, it only says PREFERRED.
APPLIED.
With Spring soon the rearview mirror, I entered that Summer with grand total of zero offers, zero callbacks, and zero interviews.
Well.
I did get one.
JUNE 2022
“Welcome to Regal Theaters, how can I help you today?”
Okay, so beggars can’t be choosers.
Turns out a degree from USC can only take you so far without any significant internships or on set experiences. Though that didn’t stop me from hopelessly refreshing my application status on the Disney Careers portal, even as I sat waiting for my interview with Regal.
And so, a few weeks later as I popped on that orange and black cap at the start of my first shift, the fear that I had squandered my opportunities from USC was being confirmed with every passing minute.
Each shift, from clocking in at the early afternoon to clocking out at 12 or 1am, I racked my brain relentlessly. Every day, as I made my way up and down those endless escalators from our little closet break room to the back kitchen of the main concession booth, I thought back on every decision from the past 4 years. Wishing I could have done MORE.
More projects. More volunteer work. More job applications. More networking. Just, MORE.
But at the end of the day, I had no ground to complain. Sure, Regal in downtown L.A. was far from my ideal job. But what the hell. I could pay my rent and stay in Los Angeles, which is all I really asked for in the first place. All I really needed to keep my dreams alive.
And as a part time gig, I was free to take advantage of plenty more on set volunteering opportunities. Meeting creatives. Building connections. Working on my craft.
Plus, with up to eight free movie tickets a month? Well, I was spoiled really.
Nevertheless, that first week in Regal was a brutal trial by fire. With the release of the second Minions movie coinciding with my training, I quickly realized that working at a movie theater would hardly be as fun as I originally imagined.
Assigned to the concession booth, each Friday evening was met with an unrelenting wave of dumb teenagers in business formal attires, disillusioned parents wrangling screaming children, and customers stoned out of their minds struggling to order their munchies. Who said movie theaters were dying?
But God, why did it have to be the concessions shift? Why couldn’t I work as a projectionist? Or at least an usher.
Though after hearing coworkers tell the harrowing tale of cleaning up human feces off the theater floor, I realized the concession booth wasn’t all that bad. At least I was relatively safe from defecation attacks while standing behind the counter.
I can’t help to look back at this period of my life with a certain fondness, amused by the incredulity of my past self after I recently realized that I really only worked that job for 4 months. Hardly worth all the fuzz.
Though those nights cleaning the grease off the popcorn maker and draining the oils and butter dispenser truly felt eternal. The stench from the butter trays would follow me home every night and for months I had a lovely burn mark on my arm from cleaning the popcorn kettle. A nice little memento.
But, seemingly against all odds, by the end of the summer, as I scrolled through a seemingly endless scroll of automated rejection emails, I received the greatest news of my life.
Mickey Mouse. The rat.
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