Don't Touch The Fruit!!!

Some of you may know that I work on the Universal lot.  There are pros and cons to this situation.

Pros -

--The commissary actually has good food, unlike Fox, where they sell crab cakes for two dollars and don't permit you to sue them after you acquire a vicious case of food poisoning from said too-good-to-be-true cheap crab cakes. 

--Universal is the only lot that feels like an actual lot.  You can tour the Bates Motel on your golf cart, or swing by Cabot Cove and wave hello to Jessica Fletcher.  My favorite thing to do of an afternoon is to "Save The Clock Tower!" 

Cons -

--Since it is the only lot that feels like an actual lot, it capitalizes on this trait.  Every fifteen minutes, a string of four trams carrying overweight tourists chugs under my office window with some sickeningly upbeat music and an Alfred Hitchcock voiceover, "My name is Alfred Hitchcock," he chants as the celebratory carnival music churns.  Sounds like the tram ride from hell, if you ask me.

But the worst is when you are walking across the lot and the tram catches up to you.  Because then the fat tourists lean out the sides with their Wal-Mart digital cameras and scream things like, "Are you an actress?  Can I have your autograph?"  AND THEY TAKE YOUR PICTURE!!!  There is no reasoning with them.  I have tried countless times to explain that I am a Writers' Assistant, not even a writer, that they have in fact never heard of me, and do I look like I've had Botox and a boob job?  In case you've never seen me, take my word for it - no, I do not. 

--The security on this lot is ridiculous.  From the guard who waves me through the gate every morning with a, "Have a great day, Beautiful!" to the lard ass who stopped me and one of our writers as we strolled down New York street yesterday.  Keep in mind we were just strolling, stretching our legs, and we saw a fake fruit stand set up on the sidewalk.  So of course we went over to see if the fruit was real.  But as the writer I was with reached out to touch a pear, lard ass greeted us with a, "Stop, sir!  Do not under any circumstances touch that fruit!"  He proceeded to ask for our badges, then released us with an explanation that that fruit belonged to a production, and we should never have touched it in the first place.  "But, but," I wanted to sputter, "We just wanted to see if it was real!"  Now I know what it must feel like to be a man.