After taking off his makeup and changing back into his clothes, Martin came out of the temporary dressing room and went to a place that would not hinder other people's work. After observing for a while, he found Fat Andrew's location.
While the other party was free, he walked over and said, "Mr. Andrew."
Andrew still remembers Martin: "Didn't go to collect the money? Can't find the financial office?"
Martin smiled and said, "I happened to see you when I came out. Come over and say thank you."
Andrew had a good impression of him: "You did a good job too."
Fatty is an employee who follows the boss's footsteps closely. Martin's topic turns to women's rights: "When I see my girlfriend later, I ask her to contact friends with the same aspirations. Then I will ask Mr. Andrew for help."
"No problem." Andrew thought for a while and said, "Since you support equal rights and are willing to contribute, you should also pay more attention to current social affairs. If you encounter anything that is not conducive to women's unions, please notify me in time."
He said similar things to many people he knew, in order to please the boss.
In order to get promoted, he kept up with his boss.
Martin naturally agreed.
A brand new BMW 7 Series drove up the farmer's road, attracting the attention of many people, and Andrew's eyes also turned there.
The car stopped, and the young female assistant who got off the passenger door opened the rear door, and the short-haired woman in professional attire lowered her head and got out of the car.
Andrew waved to Martin and strode over there.
Martin asked a passing extra: "Who is that? So impressive."
Before the performance, he kept walking and said casually: "The boss of the company."
Martin gets it, this is Kelly Gray, a stalwart of the ATL Women's Association.
He soon discovered that Andrew could not strike up a conversation in front of Kelly Gray, but was very familiar with the female assistant.
Robert suddenly flashed over from behind: "Let's get the money together, I'm going to have a damn big dinner tonight!"
"Man, you want me to wait and you don't want to treat me tonight?" Martin asked.
Robert followed him towards the financial room: "Another day, another day."
Before four o'clock, the filming of the scene belonging to the two of them had ended. They each signed and received a check for US$100 and went to the place where the extras were gathered.
Martin saw Jerome and went directly over: "Captain, this is today's salary. I will pay the dues."
Now he can confirm that Jerome has certain abilities and connections in Atlanta's low-level actor market.
It's much better than him running around headless on his own.
Of course, the money cannot be given at once. There are more than 20 people in the troupe, old and new, so Jerome must always remember him.
Jerome put away the check and was extremely satisfied with Martin's attitude. When he made money, he immediately thought of paying it back, and as expected, he didn't miss it.
There's still $200 left, so don't worry, he'll be able to pay it back soon.
People's hearts are sometimes complicated. Jerome was in a good mood and asked one more question: "Do you have living expenses? You can keep some."
Martin said: "I work in nightclubs at night, and my income can support my basic life."
Jerome collected the money, and Martin took the opportunity to ask about Gray Film and Television Production Company.
This is a local company in Atlanta. It is not large in scale and has never produced a movie for theaters. It often cooperates with cable stations to shoot late-night programs. It also invests some funds every year to produce video movies and sell them directly to the DVD market.
The owner, Kelly Gray, studied at the University of Southern California, worked in Hollywood, and was greatly influenced by Californians. She is currently an active feminist in Atlanta.
A little after four o'clock, a large number of extras returned, and Martin and Robert followed the large group onto the bus and returned to downtown Atlanta.
Martin picked up the car, had dinner casually, and rushed to Saijo Avenue. Before he could park the car, the door of a Wrangler two parking spaces away opened, and there was a loud shout of F.
Martin got out of the car and locked the door.
On the passenger side of the Wrangler, a black woman with dreadlocks, a thick waist and a butt as big as a bucket, got out. She pointed at the car and cursed: "You loser, how dare you pick up a little bitch in front of me! I didn't pay for it for you, you Today? Now that you are rich, you dare to make me look bad!"
A bald black man came down from the other side: "Bitch, who are you calling a loser? Believe it or not, I kicked you for divorce."
The hot-tempered black woman became anxious and took out a bright silver pistol from her basketball-like chest: "Boyette, I'll break this piece of shit of yours."
Not to be outdone, Bald Boyet took out his M1911 and said, "Come on, bitch, let's see who is finished first."
The old black couple pointed guns at each other and looked like they were about to shoot at any moment.
Martin hurriedly moved away and came to the door of the club. He found that Brainless Ivan was watching with high interest and asked: "Do you know these two psychopaths?"
Ivan pointed to his head: "Aren't they all sick in this group?"
Bruce came out of the porch and slapped Ivan on the head: "Don't say such troublesome words at the door! We are civilized people!"
Ivan was very aggrieved: "What I said is a generally accepted fact. They are just like normal people. When they get a little emotional, they turn into brainless beasts."
At the door of the black bar opposite, someone ran out and tried to persuade the black pair.
Martin asked: "The person on the other side?"
Bruce said: "The man's name is Boyette, a black bar owner, and the woman's his wife's name is Betty. They both have black gang backgrounds in South City."
Martin scratched his head and said: "The couple used a pistol when they quarreled."
Bruce lowered his voice: "Black gangs have extremely violent tendencies."
Martin remembered, if he encounters those two old black men in the future, stay away from them.
The two of them entered the club and changed clothes to go to work. There were very few customers tonight, with no more than 30 people at the most.
Martin collected the $1 and stuffed it into his pocket.
Bruce was envious: "I heard that every bartender has a unique skill, do you have one?"
Martin said: "Of course there is." He stretched out his hand to show some blues: "But not for civilized people, because civilized people like poster taste."
I can't talk about special tricks, but I know a few cocktails that haven't appeared or are popular in this era, such as paper airplanes.
The tall, slender man with blond hair and ponytail came in from the outside. When he saw Bruce, he complained: "Who is that bastard at the door? He actually asked me to buy a ticket to enter."
Martin didn’t need to ask, it must be Ivan.
Bruce just smiled.
The ponytail man turned to Martin: "Handsome guy, selling alcohol is a waste of resources! Vincent did something wrong, he put you in the wrong place!"
While talking, he went up to the second floor.
Martin asked with his eyes.
Bruce replied: "Michael, the nightclub publicist hired by the boss, must have seen a lack of improvement in customer traffic. The boss called him over. This guy is going to be unlucky."
He teased Martin: "The bartender has to work part-time as a scavenger. It's our job to deal with Michael's body. Can you use acid? Eviscerate the bones?"
Martin said seriously: "I will let civilized people lick him into a big hole!"
Bruce looked serious: "You still owe me a month's worth of posters and a big-assed actress."
The former is easy to solve, but the latter is too troublesome. Martin forcefully changed the subject: "If the club closes, you will lose your job."
Bruce said: "No, the boss still has his trump card."
Martin was curious: "What trump card?"
"Solicit the opinions of your subordinates." Bruce was obviously not joking: "Choose the best plan from them."
He looked around the club: "When we changed careers, someone suggested opening a gigolo club. The boss made a choice and went to Las Vegas to investigate, and then opened the House of Beasts."
Martin said to himself, no wonder business is not good, the club originated from this unreliable method.
He looked at the empty place and thought about it carefully.
When he was free again, Martin asked: "The club's business situation is not good. Where is the person who made suggestions?"
Bruce pointed to the ring stage: "The boss made Hart dance on it until things get better."
