Writers Strike - Day 66

a writer's perspective

All right! We got the first finger of the New Year!

Stationed outside Warner Brothers, where news broke last night that there would be imminent layoffs for a lot of the staffers, I expected the strikers to be the target of increased vitriol. We had our share of negative gestures today, but the truth is fingers are still few and far between.

If we made a drinking game where we drank every time someone flipped us off, we would never get drunk.

Besides the one bird, we got one half-hearted thumbs down, one angry motor-rev, and one “Go back to work you lazy writers!” I wonder if that means its okay for the non-lazy writers remain on strike.

Every time someone revs their engine, I can’t help but imagine them losing control of their vehicle and crashing into a pole. It’s always guys, and they are pretty much always driving pickup trucks.

I spent much of today at Gate 4A… The Executive Gate. The entire time I’m there, not one executive enters. However, a car wash attendant pulls in and out of the gate like clockwork. Every ten minutes, he exits, driving a dirty Jaguar or Mercedes, and returns ten minutes later with a clean car. He never acknowledges us, and I swear, every time he pulls out on to Olive, he cuts off several cars and just narrowly avoids a collision. Again, I can’t help fantasizing about a car accident.

This is Day 66 of the strike. It’s been 33 days since the producers walked of the negotiations. Since the strike began, I’ve received 18, 963 honks, and maybe enough fingers to play a piano duet. And, except in my head, I haven’t seen one traffic accident!

photo by Heath Biter for LAist