Dear John. Yes, your name is John. And you’re an actor.
Let me be more specific. You’re white. You’re in your 20s. And your last name has three syllables. I know this because I saw your name printed on the headshot you were holding. I also noticed a copy of this magazine inside your bag. That’s how I know you’re reading this column.
You see, I was sitting next to you at Starbucks last week. I’m talking about the one in Studio City. You might remember me, John. I was the only one there wearing a suit. And here’s what I heard you say to your friend: “I’m going to kill this agent meeting. That guy needs me. I checked out his list and he doesn’t have anyone like me.”
Does that ring a bell, John? You seemed pretty sure of yourself, but that meeting didn’t go well, did it? I know this because I called the agent, a guy I happen to know, and I asked him. How strange. I guess he didn’t need you after all.
But don’t worry, John. You’re not the only actor out there who doesn’t understand the nature of need. I hear it all the time during meetings. Actors will go out of their way to explain how much I need them. This always makes me smile. You
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