Oh, the Places I Go! 

It’s overcast and drizzling and the address on the call sheet is in a nondescript Queens neighborhood. There are no signs anywhere, but then I notice orange cones & production trucks, so I know I am close. My instructions are to go to holding. I see a PA and ask him how to get there, praying the fact that I’m lugging a 20lb. makeup kit will be evidence enough to send me in the right direction. His instructions to me are as follows:
“See that large vacant building? Make a left there and walk all the way down the block. When you get to the end, you’ll see this alleyway on the right. Walk to the end of the alleyway and you’ll find yourself behind a bunch of industrial buildings. It’s somewhere back there.” 

So I set off, fairly certain that there was not a Mafia hit on me, but I was beginning to wonder. I went down the block, through the alleyway, and found the courtyard of a decrepit industrial complex. Not a soul in sight. Then I saw a food truck parked by the side of a building. Relieved, I walked through the nearest door, where I found several background actors sitting at folding tables having their eggs & coffee. Having landed, I set my kit down & got breakfast. 

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