Leave the soap! – Part 1

Random Stories… From  a girl you don’t know.

There’s been a war. The 3rd world war. A bigger war than anyone has ever lived, imagined, or dreamed before.

40 million people have died, others, merely vanished.
 You, well, YOU are the only survivor. Here you are, sitting on a couch – alone. You know that everyone you have ever met is dead……. And you’re here, alive.

How does that make you feel?

Well, let me tell you, when I was told this, while sitting in this Hollywood hotel, at the first photo shoot of my first time in LA, it made me feel pretty freaked out!  This was the “back story” the photographer was giving me for a shoot.

Here’s what happened:

It was 9pm on a Tuesday night. L (My friend and make up artist who I was traveling with) and I pulled up to valet parking at this beautiful downtown Hollywood, Sunset Blvd, hotel. Grabbed my bags of clothes, and we headed inside.

Excitement bubbled inside me, as I walked through the doors into the luxurious lobby.

We didn’t know what to do, where to go, I had the room number I had been texted, so we started to look for a lift as we assumed it must be on the 2nd floor due to beginning with a 2. There was no elevator. Just corridors, spas, bars, fountains, and very strange shaped seats.

We found out it was right, right again, keep right, and it’s on your right!

As we approached the door, L and I looked at each other.. “You knock” “No you knock” our eyes were saying. I stepped up, and knocked on the door, stepping back double as quickly.

Then… The door opened, but just a little. Just enough to see some eyes, peering through.

Hi” I said.. Waiting for the door to fully open.

Which , it did, after shutting again and chains being opened – the photographer, who, lets call Bob for now, with his crazy hair flying in front of his face, stepped aside and let us in. He looked a bit like a mad scientist. Suddenly we felt the whip of air as he shut the door tight behind us.

I stepped further into the room, looking around, taking in the modern, and kinda empty feel of it. The big low bed, the white, leather couch, low light lamps, and in the corner was Bob’s Mac, fitting perfectly with the over-all style. “How will the army look he wanted to do fit with this room” I started to wonder.

By now, Bob was standing in the middle of the room, not really doing anything, or saying anything, just.. Waiting.

“So, what are you looking to do?”

I said, trying to break the ice, and lift the energy.

He started to mumble, in his French Canadian accent, something I couldn’t understand. I just stood, nodded, looked at L, who pulled a face and shrugged.

So, um,.. Do you have the uniforms you wanted me to wear?”

(The plan for the shoot had been to do an army type look, in a modern setting. So he was bringing a military uniform!)

The accent mumbles started again, this time I picked out a few words

“”No”

I wore it”

Thought it might smell”

I’m not military or anything”

Never said I definitely would bring it”

What do you have?”
“Don’t you have one?”

I looked at my bag; I hadn’t brought much, as he had told me not to bring anything, so all I had were a few things I always take just to be safe….just the basic kit: A pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, a black skirt, denim skirt, 3 pairs of shoes, leggings, tights, jewelry etc etc.

I started pulling out the things I had, explaining that as he had planned to have the uniform, I didn’t have anything like what he had been looking for.

After some more mumbles and what I think were complaints (or maybe they were praises, for all I know!) he selected an outfit.. A denim skirt, black heels, and black top.

And then the shoot – and the fun (Or the awkward, random, slightly scary, very odd, very memorable)  began…

Wanna know what happened? (Or just why it’s called Leave the soap?!)

Click like – post a comment – and Follow me so I know you want to know!! 🙂

Part 2 is up!! read the rest of the story here

and let me know what you think with a comment, like, and follow!

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2 thoughts on “Leave the soap! – Part 1

  1. Pingback: Leave the soap – Part 2. « Random Stories

  2. Pingback: Robbed, On my 12th Birthday! Part 1 « Random Stories

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