An old prostitute.

Alesia Kazantseva writes:

I once worked on a project with a young group. Everyone was very young, 20-25 years old. I am 41 years old.

I usually bypass such companies, frankly afraid of them. And in general, if I walk through a dark street and see a crowd of adult men, I am not as afraid as if a group of young people were going in front of me. Young people are always more cruel, at least because they don’t know what pain is.

But the producer very much asked me to work on that project because he was 47 years old. Being scared together is not so scary.

The whole project did not leave me the feeling that the guys broke the pile. And they fell to a very expensive but old and experienced prostitute. I work as an assistant director. The director and the operator looked at me from a distance and whispered, “You go and ask her!” – “No, go and ask yourself!”

They both approached and said, “Can you do us this?”
I said, “Well I can.”
They said, “Is that so?”
I said, “Well I can.”
And they say, “Wii!”

We came to choose an object to film an advertisement. The director and the operator came in, rubbed their beards with their fingers and said, “Well, this is a late Renaissance, we need an early one.” I thought, “Don’t fuck it, it’s just coffee.” They said, “We need to look for more.” The producer and I replied, “You understand, the customer really likes this object.” They said, “No, we have to look further.”

I made a hundred efforts a day not to shake my eyes, otherwise they would have broken, like a Soviet doll, and fell into my skull. The producer sometimes wrote messages to me, “Change your face expression, it’s very noticeable now.”
I imagined that any experienced 50-year-old director I knew would go into this same cafe and say, “Fuck, what a shit, why did you bring me here, who is the lock-in manager, who is this sink?” The director would answer, “Well, I’m saying the object is great, you don’t have to go anywhere and look.” And the operator would not answer anything at all, because he would not have been at that meeting. Adults are hardly driving anymore. They are sending their brigadier in the light. They stand with such red-drunk faces and say, “Everything is clear, we will do it.”

Recently, producer Dima, who has been working for many years, began to call out the list of the band, which gave him a young director. None of the producer's names were known from this list. He picked up the number of one girl (a costume artist) and offered her a project. The girl replied that she had long since left the profession. Producer Dima, who has been working for many years, grabbed his head. When did you get in to get out?

I once worked with a makeup artist named Leslie. In fact, she was Lisa, but asked to call her Leslie. I felt like I was calling the shepherd all the time. “Leslie, Leslie, we need to fix the makeup.” We also had many such names in the group, now fashionable among young people. I felt like a peasant among them. They said to one another, “Iran! by Gala! “Mika!” And here I, some old-fashioned Alessia, stand in a simple dress in the middle of the field, eating raw potatoes.

In short, we went to a hundred different cafes and looked for an early Renaissance.

I tolerated every step, it was physically difficult to change my legs. I didn’t just want to go. She couldn’t speak, pressing out words like an empty tube of toothpaste. I was more polite than ever! She was constantly receiving messages from the producer about her face. It was like a sick cow. Then the director and the operator wanted a coffee. They didn’t say that, they said, “We need a coffee point.” The producer's eyes with the bell fell into the skull, like bicycle calls from the children's "Levushka". Because any experienced adult director would say, “Fuck a cup of coffee!” or, “Where is my coffee? Directors can find words that paralys you, but also make you run away.

We parked near the cafe. The director and operator said: “We have a bio-decomposable non-lactose eco-coffee on chamomile protein with lavender foam and non-lactose caramel.”

I looked at it all, I looked at it, I said to them, “A second!”

I went over the corner and there was a supermarket. I almost shouted to them in the face: “Do you have large glasses of paper? Urgently!! I can’t do it anymore!!“They say, ‘Yes!’ I just pulled out a block from the prosecco at the box and poured a quarter of the portion into a huge cup of coffee. With giant lactose and gluten. The whole shop was so penetrated that they even poured ice on me. Then I went out, but immediately returned and bought another coffee from the producer.

The operator and the director immediately turned into very interesting and funny people, we and the producer engaged in the search for the Renaissance, the rain went with the gray, the winds started - that is, even the weather improved.
And these huge glasses all day long reconciled us with the fact that we were no longer young. “We will never be young again.”

*** by

It is an experienced old prostitute that I feel most of the time.

The customer only says that he wants to open a café, and you already know not only where, how much it will need to be spent and what profit it can bring (ideally), but also that he will insist on the most optimistic landing and the maximum average check that will eliminate all risks and pay for repairs one and a half times more, because you need to "look".

And that all of his money is not, but half gives a partner who trusts him completely and will not interfere in anything - and that of course he will.

And that the first administrator will be a niece, and how it all ends.

By the end of the first phrase, you can already predict the date of the first bankruptcy with an accuracy of up to three months - and not a minute has passed since the moment of your meeting.

And nothing, nothing can be done about this, this knowledge cannot be passed on, even if you turn out in a way. By the age of 18, a person is already confident that he knows everything in the world, and he only needs technical executives.

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