Sidewalk Superheroes

I sometimes feel that the one small square block of Hollywood is a 24-hour crazy zone. Even when we’re around every day, we still miss things and don’t know the whole story. It’s a little irritating, as if your favourite soap opera ran sixteen times a day and you can just never keep up. But it’s life, so I can’t even TiVo it. Hah, like I even have TiVo. Anyway, I’ll try to remember everything that’s happened today, but I always end up forgetting something. Before I get going, though, here’s some gratuitous eye candy for ya:

We really need to find a healthier place to eat, honestly. Today we shared an order of cheese fries and a peanut butter chocolate shake at Johnny Rockets because it’s cheap and the waiters like us. If we get the right guy, we get an employee discount! But yes, fries and a shake do not a real meal make. Also, bad example for the kids. So if any one knows of any cheap, tasty, affordable places nearby to get a sandwich and/or soup, please let us know. I’d hate to do yoga every day and still just break even because of all the crap I have to eat at work.

Anyway, we showed up at different times today again. I showed up at 11 to do some work with Superman before he had to leave, but it was slow. I did, however, overhear a very interesting piece of gossip! Among all of the filming going around yesterday, some guy was interviewing the male characters. Superman told the interviewer that we’re all entertainers of some sort when we’re not on the boulevard, and that we vary from actors to artists to porn stars. Wait, what?!? I hadn’t heard that part of the spiel yet. Superman told the interviewer which one does the nasty for cash, and the interviewer apparently went to the character in question to see if this was true. This particular guy said yes, it was true, and, maybe looking to start something, the interviewer said, “Superman said you do gay porn.” This was untrue and the moonlighting character thought as much, and came over this morning to ask. Superman said of course he didn’t say that, he never says anything like that. All he knew was that this character did this genre of film, and that was enough information for him. Still, very interesting. I had no idea! (And yes, I intentionally left the identity of the porn star as vague as possible. If you really want to know who it is, start renting loads of porn.)

Wonder Cat (Catwoman) showed up around noon and the sometimes scary Wonder Woman, from yesterday’s drama, apologized for her earlier behaviour. I had actually been talking to her and Bat M (it seems that even she has learned to just ignore his ramblings, because all he does is turn the conversation to himself, rinse and repeat). She gave more history into her kid running away from home and all the drama that’s been going on there, and hard times have hit this WW. She used to be a makeup artist, but like so many Americans, especially Californians, she lost her job and now boulevard work is her only work and income source. Just like me! So she was already stressed out from the kid drama, and felt that Wonder Cat was cutting into her work, and snapped. So as soon as she saw WC she apologized very graciously and everyone got on just fine for the rest of the day. We gave her plenty of space and she smiled and waved or squeezed a hand when she went by, so I’m really glad that’s resolved.

We didn’t work with Bat M, because he’s freaking annoying, and ended up ambling down past the Kodak where another Batman, a newer one called Bat M2, was working with Scabby Joker. I’m sorry I have to call new Bat M2, but I’m going on initials and I guess M names are pretty popular. Scabby Joker is a fairly new addition to the boulevard, and sometimes has a clown-masked henchman with him. He’ll do the loud, shrieking laugh and carries around a knife, but he’s very skinny and his hair looks genuinely greasy. Today when I tried to find street parking before giving up and parking in the H&H structure, I saw him walking down Superman’s street with Tinkerbell, Sexy Cop and a new friend, Chunky Cop. Then it all made sense. Sexy Cop et al had invited Scabby Joker to join the gang because they now hate Joker, and want to cut in on his business. Classy. Joker doesn’t care, and this evening when we were working together, a few people came by and told him he was the better Joker. He’s definitely the less cracked out looking one.

Anyway, we finally officially met Bat M2 and he took a picture with us (and tipped, aww!), and gave us a card. I really need to get cards made. I’m designing them tonight after this. Anyway, we sort of worked next to each other, with Sexy Cop and Chunky Cop on our other side, which was a wee bit awkward. I know things are better between her and Bat A, and if there was an easy way I could say, “Hey, I’m not a threat,” I would, but that’s just weird, and I don’t want to exacerbate things any further. So we just trade thin smiles and try not to work too close to each other. Anyway, while we were working and dodging the sun, this couple strolled by:

I know I’ve seen them somewhere before, especially the girl, but oh! They were so cute. He was checking out all the girls as they walked by (as you can tell), and I don’t know if they were going to work up by the Chinese Theatre or were on their way to someplace else, but wow. I loved it.

Shortly thereafter a film crew for NBC came up. Apparently they’d stopped by during the week and recruited characters to film a segment for the Olympic qualifying tournaments. They were going to have the characters curling on the Walk of Fame, which sounded funny. The director lamented the fact that we hadn’t been around during the week, but said he might could use us for something else coming up soon, or during the summer. Wonder Cat groused afterwards that she probably couldn’t do anything with them anyway, being SAG and all, and Bat M2 had apparently said that he was only being paid $10 for the gig. But for 15 minutes of filming, free publicity, and guaranteed money (versus the somewhat slow day and tons of snipers), I’d do it. The director had Superman’s contact info, of course, and I told him he could contact me through Superman. Damn, I really need to have cards made! Tonight, I’ll order them tonight.

While they were filming business really started to drop off due to the lunch rush, and since we were hungry, we decided to cut out and eat. Maybe our trick of leaving and coming back would help us out. It usually does. So we ate.

Business did pick up a bit after lunch. The Joker was out and we hung around him, since he’s fun, and Bird Man came by again with his birds. I love it. I grew up with birds so I can talk to him about his babies: a military macaw (baby, only 6 months old!), a blue and gold macaw, and a double yellow-headed Amazon (13 years old, the oldest of the three). They’re very well trained. The blue and gold kept giving me kisses. 🙂 He let us play with them a little bit more, but when Balloon Princess, a strange little chick in a prom dress and tiara selling balloon swords, wanted to play, he told her he had to work and scooted off. It was the first time I’d ever interacted with Balloon Princess, and I think I see now why she works alone. Well, why all the balloon sellers work alone. All a little off. And I’m one to talk.

Wonder Cat wanted me to take a picture of her with the birds:

They are so fun! So we worked and ambled around a bit, glad the sun had finally dipped low enough to not bother us anymore. It was still terribly warm, and I’m really grateful it takes a lot for me to sweat, because I would have literally been a hot mess otherwise. Wonder Wig showed up, heh heh, the first time she’d seen Wonder Cat in her new costume. I wonder if she’ll go back to her original costume now, especially since she complained about sweating profusely in her vinyl costume. Because of the heat she only comes out in late afternoon now, which makes me wonder why she hasn’t gone back to WW. Not that I care too much. She’s still overly friendly, but I think she only does that to make it not seem so glaringly obvious that she’s hanging around to steal our business. Wonder Cat, Joker and I had found a good spot and we were talking with Mr. and Mrs. Elvis when Wonder Wig appeared. Shortly afterward, we noticed what crap trick she was pulling.
“We need to move,” I muttered to the other two. “Wonder Wig is poaching.” Joker snorted at our nickname for her.
“Ugh, are you serious?” Wonder Cat rolled her eyes and shot Wonder Wig a withering look.
“Yeah, I think she came over just to steal our business.” So I said goodbye to Mr and Mrs Elvis, whom I like, even if they are odd, and we snuck off while Wonder Wig was slipping her arm around a kid and insisting their parents take a picture. Illegal. And the cops were just across the street!

Something had gone down at Hooters, and about six cop cars had shown up. There was a very large crowd outside on the walk, and mutiple policemen were taking statements from people. We never did find out what was happening. Still, before leaving I told Mrs. Elvis that what Wonder Wig was doing was illegal, and she was going to get caught. Eh, like I cared.

So we moved off, and shortly afterwards Wonder Cat had to leave for the day. I decided to try my luck staying on with the Joker. I was getting very thirsty and him hungry, so we broke for 20 minutes. On my way back in I stopped to talk to Vader and Storm Trooper and thought I saw Joker just up the way. I started to follow but Wonder Wig started talking to me, probably looking to poach again. While I was trying to get away, a man approached us.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said. My first thought was, honestly, Oh please, god, don’t make us kiss!
“What is it?” Wig asked.
“I would like to take a picture with every single character out here. How much would that cost me?” Knowing full well that I couldn’t name a flat rate, or even $___ per character, I tried to think up something quickly.
“Well, we all work on tips and all we ask is something per character. We all go home separately,” something I thought to add today so people would know that we don’t all pile in together in a crummy walk-up studio, like they must think.
“How much per person?” he insisted.
“Well, we can’t name a price, but at least one dollar per person?” I cringed while saying this, and raised my voice to sound like a question or suggestion.
“Oh, I was thinking $5 per person.”
“Oh! Well that’s even better. It’s whatever you would like to give,” I said, relieved.
We talked to the guy a bit longer, and it sounds like he just wants a fun, cool picture to commemorate Martin Luther King Jr Day tomorrow. He mentioned something about celebrating Obama, too, and I joked about sending the picture to him.
“So I was thinking everyone could meet up at noon for the picture?” he suggested.
“Oh yeah, that’d be great,” I said quickly.
“Eh, can you do it later?” Wonder Wig demanded. “I’m usually not out here that early.”
“Later?” he asked. Seriously, woman! He’s the well paying customer with the request, and beggars can’t be choosers. After some back and forth, with me cutting in and insisting that noon would be fine (damnit!), he finally settled on noon and asked that I tell anyone else I saw about the gig. Happy to help, I said yes, and Wonder Wig said that maybe she’d make it. The picture will happen with or without you, princess, don’t act like you make it or break it.

I went back to the Chinese Theatre and talked a little more with Mr. and Mrs. Elvis, telling them about the guy’s business deal, and the guy himself appeared. He took a picture with the three of us and gave us a $20 to split, but Mr. Elvis kept $10 for himself and gave the Mrs. and me $5 each. I didn’t really care because I know that they don’t do quite as well, as Mrs. Elvis has told me in the past, but she apparently wanted an even cut. They argued a bit, during which Mr. Elvis insisted that the guy had told him to keep ten for himself, and I excused myself to find the Joker.

We reunited down the block and hung out. There was plenty of people out, but not many customers, so we talked. I mentioned taking pictures, and suddenly he wants me to shoot his new head shots. ! Well, okay. So he’s going to get a haircut and get in touch, and I guess I may start being a headshot photographer. Huh. Well, okay. We’ll see how it goes. 😉 I’ll have to leave my business card blank and just write in whatever that particular person wants from me, otherwise the font will have to be in the negatives to fit it all. See kids, if you’re well-rounded enough, you can always keep your head above the water somehow. It’s just a bit harder if it’s all in the arts, because the arts are always the first to suffer in a bad economy. Eh.

Edit: Heilige sheisse, I can’t believe I forgot the most important gossip of the day!
So, right after Wonder Cat left for the day, one of the rappers came up to the Joker and I. This was the older rapper, the one that I had figured was the ringleader based on what Bat A had told me. He immediately started talking, total diarrhea of the mouth.
“Man, I can’t believe the shit some of these characters do!” he said. “We just be trying to do our thing and they totally cut into our business, and the whole time they’re bitching to the cops that we’re cutting into their business! That’s bullshit. That’s why all this shit started.” The Joker and I stared at each other with matching, indescribable looks on our faces. Why was he telling us this, what did he expect us to say, and were we now on the hit list? Thankfully, the rapper didn’t seem to want anything from us, besides a set of ears to rant into. We both bit our tongues, not pointing out that the rappers feed on our crowds as much as the beggar characters (probably the ones he was complaining about anyway), and that we’ve had to relocate because the rappers would drive our crowds away.
“My nephews, they’ve been out here working with me, and those characters just kept talking shit and talking shit, and you know when you push someone far enough, they’re gonna push back, am I right?”
“No, yeah man, totally right,” Joker said, and I know we were still sharing the same line of thought: so talking shit is the same as gang beating someone from behind? Good to know.
The rapper went on complaining, repeatedly admitting that his two nephews, ages 21 and 18, were behind the attacks and it was all due to the characters complaining that the rappers were too pushy and bad for business. Real fucking brilliant. If I could have in any way, I would have pulled out my camera and tried to take video just for the audio.
“So, uh, are they done with all that?” the Joker asked, referring to the fights. The rapper didn’t say yes or no either way, but it seemed like they were pretty much satisfied. Probably because they’ve driven off all their original victims. Oh, and that whole “the cops are crawling all over the block” deal, too.
Once the rapper was done venting and stepped back to keep shoving headphones on passing tourist’s heads, the Joker turned to me.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Doesn’t he know those guys can never show their faces here again?”
“Seriously! At least half the characters here know what they look like, and if you just show me those guys once, I’ll never forget ’em.” My hand went to my pepper spray. I wish I could have gotten the kind with a UV tint to it, so even if your victim has recovered from the spraying, they’ll still be marked under a UV lamp.
“Well not only that, but they’ve got a shitload of charges against them!” Joker said. “They’ve got assault, attempted assault–”
“Shit, they could probably get attempted murder if they tried,” I cut in, thinking of how viciously they worked Freddie after he was knocked unconscious.
“Yeah, totally,” he said. “If those guys ever show up again, they’re facing felony charges.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”

And this is why you can never leave the boulevard. Look at all you miss when you’re not around!