They're (Still) Here

I was under the impression that the "Salt" film crew would be leaving last Friday. Not. The. Case.

There was quite a bit of hoopla last Friday. Pyrotechnics and copious smoke filled the hallways of my floor as I came in. There were police and crew and cranes and lights and thousands on the street, in the lobby and on my humble fourth floor. I caught a glimpse of Philip Noyce, the film's director who uttered one sentence as I ascended the stairway to my home. He said simply, "Quiet, please." Why, yes sir.

There was quite a bit of moving of equipment out of the building after that last shot (noted by the echo of the mantra, "That's a wrap!"). This past week offered so much excitement that I was sort of disappointed to think that my new friends were leaving. I'd gotten fond of these good natured folk--Richard and Jamal, the location poobahs; Bob, Steve, Tom and Gabe, the fourth floor crew poobahs; James and Paul, the muscle poobahs. I was practically on a first name basis with them all and they too remembered my name. But they aren't exactly rushing to leave.

When I rose last Saturday and ventured into the hallway for our delivered copy of The New York Times, I was surprised to see several crew members positioned in the hallways. Alongside them were miles of cable, film equipment and other materials. Never a shrinking violet kinda girl, I approached one of the crew members (whilst wearing pink pajamas embellished with monkeys, no less),I inquired as to their presence. "Oh," the gent opined, "we have much more filming to do here." Who knew?

I have seen crew members and police loitering around the place for the past few days. I do think they are taking a shine to us.

Tonight when I got home, I got into the elevator and there was my old pal Jamal. "Dude," I exclaimed, "you sticking around or what?" He laughed and nodded. "We have additional scenes to film here. This week and the week of April 2nd." I nodded but in my usual smart-ass way had to add, "Admit it. You like us. You really like us." He laughed. "Yes. We do."

There was a notice under the door tonight confirming that additional scenes here in The Rivera were still to be filmed over the next few weeks. It indicated that "we will be using a special effect involving shattering glass." I suppose that's better than the pyrotechnics.

Today at work, a colleague (a rather austere editor who has New England, 18th generation Yankee written all over her) brought me a clipping from The New York Post. Once I got over my shock at the fact that she even looked at the New York Post, I saw that she had provided me a photo from "Page Six" featured Angelina Jolie scaling a side of a building during a film shoot. "Is that your building?" she asked. Why, yes it is, I said rather pleased. Damn, this situation was providing me some rather serious office bank.

It's been odd having all these Hollywood types around. I'll kinda miss them when they go.