I don't know if my first meeting with Vinnie could have gone worse. Well, conceivably it could have gone worse. Nazis didn't appear or anything, but overall it was not the most positive experience of the last 3 weeks.
To start out with the maps on my phone will occasionally - usually when I'm trying to get to a meeting or something else more important to my career than a bakery - ignore the numbers in an address and just give me the street. When this happens it is invariably on the other end of the street - miles away from where I need to be. So long story short, I was almost an hour late for my meeting.
Once I got there, I didn't really know what to do. Dotty had said to me, "Remember, you're interviewing him, not the other way around." So the interview consisted of him verifying some things and asking me a few questions about myself and my acting experience etc. I asked him a few questions about the agency and what I could expect given I were offered representation, he asked me to send him my reel, and we were done. About 30 seconds after I left the ultra-swanky, 11th floor, downtown office I thought of about 15 things I could have done or asked to make the experience more beneficial. Hindsight's 20/20.
At that point I was pretty much ready to chalk it up to a good learning experience for next time. Nothing like a lack of experience and knowledge to make you feel SUPER green.
I sent him my reel the next day. My reel consists of clips from the three film things I've done. It's nothing super impressive, but it's all I have.
Fast forward three days. I'm trying to navigate the complicated series of 1-way streets that is downtown LA on my way to pick up a friend for dinner. I get a phone call from an unrecognized number.
V: Hello, is this Greg? (Imagine the kind of voice you'd expect to hear if Anthony Hopkins were to call to inform you you were his next victim. Almost unsettlingly calm and soothing.)
Me: Yeah. :)
V: This is Vinnie Torino (name has been changed to protect the innocent) How are you?
Me: I'm doing well, how are you?
At this point the robotic voice of the GPS on my phone started to tell me to take a left on 6th street in 800 feet
Me: I'm sorry, what?
V: I said, do you know who this is?
Me: Oh, yeah, I know who you are.
V: Well Greg, I've been thinking a lot about you, and ... the voice tells me to take a right on 6th and continue for 1000 feet.
Me: Sorry, one more time?
V: I said I'd like to offer you representation.
Me: Yeah, that would be great!
Well, there's more, but it was just details about timing etc. At this point I'm freaking out a little bit. I have essentially no experience, I've been in LA for two weeks, I'm not part of any union, and as far as I know Vinnie thinks I'm about as reliable as a Pinto.
One more week passes and I'm sitting back in Vinnie's office signing my life away. It felt like signing the mortgage papers. Lots of signing. Sign sign everywhere a sign. I saw the sign...and...SCENE!
Vinnie told me that he's never signed anyone that's not part of a union. So, despite the fact that on paper I'm not a very good risk, Vinnie apparently saw something in me that he thinks is worth it - in fact he said, "I hope what I think that I saw is really there." Oh it is Vinnie. Believe me it is.