I’ve never had dreams about Los Angeles since moving here, but I had my first one this morning. A way to make ends meet down here is to work the grind of audience casting. My friend, Kevin, does this and he’s taught me a lot about it (considering I used to go to audience gigs inadvertently for free).

 

So it’s no surprise that my first dream of Los Angeles was in this setting. I was a member of a four-person pub trivia team for a televised game show. Here, we all answered a series of questions on a sheet of paper, and then we’d hand in our answers to a host very similar to Alex Trebek.

I’m a huge fan of trivia, and while I don’t study myriad subjects before going, I’m fortunate enough to do pretty well in the field. Our team was winning show after show – also like Jeopardy – and we were making a lot of money.

 

During breaks, we’d go out to the food trucks nearby and I went to the Cousins Maine Lobster truck to get a steak dish (which they do not have) and a whoopie pie (which they DO have).

 

After I returned, the team was experiencing some infighting behind the stage. I was never the one who filled out the paper (Strange, as I used to be that very person), and by the time we got back to the show and finished the round, we realized that we missed the first few answers and there was no going back. Somehow their anger turned towards me, as if it was my fault that they didn’t fill out the answers or note the nature of the questions.

 

We ended up losing that show and thus, our streak ended. I was devastated; anything to not have to drive Lyft all of the time here to pay my bills. So I go into an auditorium to sit and contemplate my next move. I’m on the right side of the crowd and to the left is a casting director in front of the hundreds of others in the seats. I see a woman on her earpiece talking to someone. “The guy in the black shirt?”

 

She approaches me. “Sir, do you have any issue being on camera?”

 

“No, not at all.”

 

“Do you have any issue talking about yourself?”

 

“No.” (In my mind: Definitely not, read this very blog!)

 

“Come with me.”

 

I oblige and walk over to the front of the left side. The woman continues talking to her manager. “We found our Bachelor.”

 

“HUH?!” I did NOT sign up for this.

 

A thousand thoughts went through my head: I don’t have a great physique. I’m not THAT attractive! How long will this take?

 

And most importantly of all: I HATE The Bachelor!

 

I scan the potential casting folk in the audience and thankfully, I see Kevin. I express my many worries to him with a single eyebrow raise before I’m scooted off.

 

I look up to the stage and see a projection screen display the casting title for The Bachelor: J. G. (indiscernible). They want the person to go by Gregor. Typical snooty name.

 

The next thing I know, I’m driving a black SUV full of women, following a black stretch limo up a lush hill, reminiscent of Maine, actually. To the left is a sprawling mansion made of greystone, complete with spires and all.

 

In the car, I’m trying to get into character of “Gregor” and so, I’m reacting to the beautiful view (in an admittedly realistic way), but I’m trying to make witty banter. So I say: “Whoa, this is like a summer camp!” Good one, Jamie.

 

I try to save it: “A summer camp on steroids.” You’ve never even BEEN to camp.”

 

We get out and the girls file in, looking for their rooms. I walk in, constantly expecting cameras on me at all times (although, I never see a single one).

 

Inexplicably, Kevin was able to come with me (I suppose as a wing man) and we searched the house together. The very first thing we see when we walk in is…

 

…A foyer under HEAVY renovations. The floor is stripped to it inner workings, the walls are brown, and there are old Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf signs still hanging; albeit crooked.

 

I’m thinking of how this could pay my current bills and get some attention– though maybe ill-advised attention– on My Cancer Story or my screenwriting.

 

Propped up against the wall, there is an old mattress. We look on the other side and there are a few branches stuck to the fabric. They sort of resemble a massive spider. I continue my (natural) reactions. “If that is a spider, I’m going to freak.” We continue walking and then Kevin shows me the list of required talking points and actions that I should be doing as The Bachelor.

 

My jaw drops and then I wake up.

 

So what can I interpret from this insane dream?

1. The Bachelor has went south.
2. I want a televised Pub Trivia game show now.
3. Making money is hard (but you all knew that).

I still don’t know why they chose me for that show, but I would have loved the pay! Sigh, now I have to go drive. But thanks for reading my newest Dream Digitizer!

 

-J. Gregor [Indiscernible]

For more on me and my crazy dreams follow me on Twitter @GuyonAWire

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