Read Online The Art of Getting Stared At by Laura Langston - Free Book Online Page B

where I spot Isaac immediately. He is surrounded by the Bathroom Brigade.
    Of course.
    I get in line for food, make small talk with Mandee, and try to figure out how I’ll get Isaac alone. But, by the time I finish paying, he’s sitting at an empty table by the window, and the girls—Breanne included—are two tables away watching him. They look like a pack of coyotes eying a baby bunny.
    â€œI thought you had a toothache?” he says when I set my burger and fries down.
    Shit, shit, shit . “I’m okay on my left side. And if it hurts too much, I’ve got the yogourt.” And thank God for that. My storyboard and notes are on the table. I see red ink on the possible locations list. He’s scribbled comments. “What did you think?”
    â€œPretty drawings,” he drawls.
    â€œOuch!” I’m a lousy artist; my storyboard figures are barely stick people. “Hey, it’s meant to be rough, okay?”
    â€œChill. I’m teasing.” He dips his burrito into a container of hot sauce.
    â€œLet me tell you how this video thing works.” I point to the storyboard, explaining how the visuals and accompanying text is a rough guide only, giving me a sense of the major areas and images to be conveyed. Isaac asks a couple of questions about his role taking primary footage, how I’ll handle backup audio. He says he’s made arrangements to get a small extension arm that will help with shot balance and allow him to pan and tilt more easily. I’m relieved andmore than a little impressed that he’s done his homework and already seems to know his way around a camera.
    â€œSo as you can see from the storyboard, I have the basic video direction down but nothing definitive for the ending.” Resisting the urge to shove the entire burger into my mouth, I tear off a chunk of bun and nibble at it. “A lot depends on what we get during the shoots but overall it’s still lacking punch.”
    â€œWhat about a flash mob?”
    â€œA flash mob?”
    He swallows his last bite of burrito. “Yeah, a laughter flash mob.”
    It might work. In that documentary on Pina, they had an amazing segment showing a dance routine performed by different generations—teens, adults, grandparents. It wasn’t a flash mob but the way they blended the visuals was impressive. Maybe we could create the same look. “We’d have to do it somewhere with lots of foot traffic.”
    â€œSomewhere like the ferry building at the Embarcadero.” He gulps his chocolate milk, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. It’s a great location, down on the waterfront. The historic ferry building is gorgeous too with its Spanish-style clock tower and arched arcade look. “We’d have to promote the shit out of it,” he adds, “so people would show up. Plus, we’d only be able to film it once so it’s a bit of a risk, but you could weave the footage into whatever else we get. It would be powerful.”
    â€œPowerful would be great! If people laugh.”
    â€œThey’d laugh.” He tips back in his chair. “You’d have to work it, that’s all.”
    â€œI’d need an A camera and a B camera for sure. One forclose-ups and the other for crowd shots. Lexi could help. She and I could each run one.”
    â€œI’m the camera operator,” Isaac says. “I’ll run one. Lexi can run the second one. You’ll have to start the flash mob.”
    I almost choke on a sliver of meat. “ I’m not going on-camera.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    Because I’m more comfortable behind the scenes. Because I’m not an on-camera kind of person. “I just ... can’t.”
    He rocks forward; his chair hits the floor with a soft thud. “Well, I can’t. I have this agreement with the PR firm about where I can and cannot appear. Getting permission from them could take weeks. You have to do