Missing Persons

Somedays, just to cope, I try and imagine I'm just in the Witness Protection Program. And in reality, it's not that far off the mark. Almost no one knows we're here. Either out of shame or embarrassment, we've simply decided not to spread the word. My parents know, of course, and the handful of friends who would actually miss us. A lot of my friends are now scattered around the country and the globe, and there didn't seem to be any compelling reason to let them know, since we stay in touch exclusively online.

Professionally, it's more a charade out of necessity. The handful of clients I've been able to maintain would pull the plug in heartbeat if they new I wasn't nearby. But the beauty of it is that no one has requested a face-to-face meeting in over a year. They e-mail me projects, and I upload the work a few days later. As far as their concerned, I'm still toiling away in the Hollywood Hills.

And no one misses me, because I stopped socializing with them years ago. I work in entertainment advertising, the hellish marriage of two of the sleaziest professions on earth. A greater collection of hacks and liars you're unlikely to find. I used to be quite social, mostly for political reasons. You never knew when you might find yourself on the wrong side of a palace coup or the semi-regular creative purges. Or more likely, when the partners cratered the agency out of ego and greed. In situations like these, it was important to "know people". And I "knew people". A lot of people. Fat lot of good it did me.

The same people who happily let you pick up the tab for dinner or drinks one week, would feign complete ignorance of you a few weeks later when your agency unexpectedly filed Chapter 11. "Will he know what's this is regarding?" Um, yeah..... I'm out of work and he told me to call him. "I'll give you his voicemail..." Dicks. So I stopped voluntarily hanging with these douchebags a long time ago. Life is too short. And e-mail allows you to maintain a veneer of friendship with people you loathe. One or two "heys" a month is really all it takes to keep the relationship on life support. And you can always up the ante by inviting them out for dinner or drinks when you know they're going to be out of town or otherwise unavailable. "Hey you.... I haven't seen you in FOREVER. How about we get together for dinner on Thursday? My treat! What? It's Yom Kippur? Damn.... some other time I guess."

And so the charade continues. I have this fantasy that things will turn around and we'll be able to move back to LA and pretend this unfortunate move never happened. Like that season on "Dallas" that ended up just being a dream. But each new day in Bako seems to make that a dimmer and dimmer prospect.