There's a slight variation on a conversation I have every day at the auto show. The gist of it is some unattractive aging woman decides to take out her feelings of inadequacy on the auto show models by lording her money and/or connections over us. Most of the time it is a blatant lie; all of the time it is obnoxious.
Another booth babe told me she once had a woman (who was sorely in need of microdermabrasion and the South Beach diet) become super-snotty with her, insisting that the booth babe was wrong about something that she said she knew for a fact was true because Roger Penske himself sold her the vehicle.
Give me a freakin' break, lady. Do you really think anyone believes that Roger Penske, one of the most successful businessmen in the United States, took time out of his incredibly busy schedule of running multiple global enterprises to come down to one of his many car dealerships and personally sell you your car? Yes, I am so sure RP walked the lot with you, took you for a test drive, brought you into that little back room where they wheel and deal on financing then handed you the keys to your new car after raping you on your trade-in. Please name drop some more, ooh, I'm so intimidated.
This morning Howard Schultz poured my Starbucks himself! Then Steve Jobs turned on my MacBook for me, Mark Zuckerberg personally emailed me to let me know my mom updated her Facebook last night and Rex Tillerson pumped my gas. (If you don't know who those guys are maybe you can call up Larry Page and Sergey Brin and ask them to Google it for you.)
And PS - Even if she did know Roger Penske, she was still wrong.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
The Art of Racing in the Rain
I read, a lot. I read in airports, on planes, in restaurants, in quiet hotel bars. I read in convention center food courts and tiny, dark back rooms of auto show sets. I read in strange hotel beds, in first class and coach, from sea to shining sea. I read at home with the back door open so I can hear the birds singing -- it relaxes me more.
I read fiction and non-fiction, classic literature and obscure modern writers, comedies, tragedies, coming-of-age tales. I'm not big on courtroom dramas (although I enjoy watching them on TV but not movies). I hate trashy romances. I like books that help me feel better about the human condition, a feeling which often needs repair after a ten-day auto show.
I read real books, books that I can hold in my hand with pages I can turn and paper and ink I can smell. I've toyed with the idea of getting a Kindle or an iPad because it sure would make my carry-on a lot lighter, but I like real books. I like the way they feel in my hands and the way they look on a bookshelf. Few things tell more about a person than what's in his bookshelf or the condition of her garage. Always investigate those two before investing in a friendship.
Last night I began reading The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. This morning, at 3 AM, I finished it. I'm a sucker for dogs (any animals really, anthropomorphized or not) and stories of triumph over adversity. Plus, hello, hot fast cars!
You must. READ. THIS. BOOK.
Here's the thing about life: it often sucks. People are mean a$$holes, jobs are lost, people you love die, houses burn down, kids are ungrateful, your underwear is too tight, you paid $10 to get into the auto show but are not allowed to sit in the Ferrari. You have unrealized dreams. Do you want to sit around and whine about the injustice of it all, or do you want to do something about it? Do you want the car to drive you, or do you want to drive the car?
Life isn't about what you can't do, it's about what you CAN do. And sometimes you have to fight through all the "can't" people to get to the "can"s. Actually, in my experience 95% of the time you have to do this. It's exhausting, but such is life. Most people either give up sometime in their 20's or never start at all, giving up on their dreams either out of complacency or simply because they have no one to believe in them.
Maybe they just need a good dog.
Read more about The Art of Racing in the Rain at Garth Stein's website.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Kidnapping jokes are not funny
Sometimes people's attempts to be funny fall flat. We've all been there. Just ask Steve Martin about his Toyota joke at the Oscars the other night - nary a giggle. Sometimes a joke is just not funny, even when it is meant to be.
And sometimes a joke is just downright creepy and frightening.
I was at a show a couple of months ago and having a lovely conversation with a visitor who was asking relevant questions about one of the vehicles on display. His cell phone rang and he excused himself to answer it, but did not step away.
His end of the conversation:
"I'm talking to the girl at the auto show. No, I haven't taken her out to the parking lot. Yet."
Yup, color me totally freaked out. I'm sure it was a joke (I hope it was a joke), but in my line of work, that kind of "joke" is scary.
Here's what we need you guys to understand. We're women traveling alone. Yes, sometimes there are men with us, but there are generally more women than men and I've worked plenty of shows with no male counterparts in attendance on my team. We're staying in strange hotels in strange cities with which we're not very familiar. The closest thing we have to bodyguards are the dealer staff who sometimes work the show and can be more odd than the visitors. The crack security teams in these places are a joke -- half are gray-haired grandpas and the other half aren't paying any attention to us because they are stoned. Now, I took a self-defense class and I know how to stay aware of my surroundings, etc., but still, if someone really wants to grab you, he can find a way.
One of the main booth babe talent agencies stopped using a certain hotel in Detroit because one of the girls was attacked on a supposedly secure floor. Yes, things like this can happen anywhere, but hotel management refused to heighten security by checking room keys before allowing elevator access. That move cost them about $100,000 a year in bookings, I'd estimate.
I'm hearing that another booth babe was drugged at the hotel bar in Detroit this year. Luckily her friends were keeping a close eye on each other and were able to take care of her before the guy slipped her out.
So please understand, your insensitive jokes about kidnapping us are not funny. If you are making us uncomfortable, we don't have to talk to you.
And sometimes a joke is just downright creepy and frightening.
I was at a show a couple of months ago and having a lovely conversation with a visitor who was asking relevant questions about one of the vehicles on display. His cell phone rang and he excused himself to answer it, but did not step away.
His end of the conversation:
"I'm talking to the girl at the auto show. No, I haven't taken her out to the parking lot. Yet."
Yup, color me totally freaked out. I'm sure it was a joke (I hope it was a joke), but in my line of work, that kind of "joke" is scary.
Here's what we need you guys to understand. We're women traveling alone. Yes, sometimes there are men with us, but there are generally more women than men and I've worked plenty of shows with no male counterparts in attendance on my team. We're staying in strange hotels in strange cities with which we're not very familiar. The closest thing we have to bodyguards are the dealer staff who sometimes work the show and can be more odd than the visitors. The crack security teams in these places are a joke -- half are gray-haired grandpas and the other half aren't paying any attention to us because they are stoned. Now, I took a self-defense class and I know how to stay aware of my surroundings, etc., but still, if someone really wants to grab you, he can find a way.
One of the main booth babe talent agencies stopped using a certain hotel in Detroit because one of the girls was attacked on a supposedly secure floor. Yes, things like this can happen anywhere, but hotel management refused to heighten security by checking room keys before allowing elevator access. That move cost them about $100,000 a year in bookings, I'd estimate.
I'm hearing that another booth babe was drugged at the hotel bar in Detroit this year. Luckily her friends were keeping a close eye on each other and were able to take care of her before the guy slipped her out.
So please understand, your insensitive jokes about kidnapping us are not funny. If you are making us uncomfortable, we don't have to talk to you.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Your one-eyed monster
I want to know who signed off on this infected-looking phallus with a nasty case of genital warts as a key marketing character for Kia.
A one-eyed monster? REALLY?
Here's the commercial in which Dickie is featured. Apparently bumpy dongs hang out in the back seats of Kia crossovers with your friendly neighborhood sock monkey.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Photo etiquette
Everyone with a halfway decent camera at the auto show fancies themselves the next Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue photographer. I assure you, you are not. We are not celebrities, you are not the paparazzi, and for most of us the nature of our jobs does not dictate we must agree to have our photos taken. If I'm not standing on a platform and my coworkers and I see you aim a camera in our direction, you will often quickly see our backs.
There is a very simple way to figure out if it's okay to take my picture.
- If I am standing on a platform next to a car, it's fair game.
- If I am not standing on a platform, ask for permission.
Lots of people do ask and that is awesome! Some of us will say yes, some of us will say no. When we say no we have very good reasons.
Here are some reasons why we say no when you ask to take our picture at the auto show:
You're super creepy
We don't want to be part of your spank book
We're afraid you're going to Photoshop our head onto the body of some naked chick with an ugly face and add it to a porn site
We're pretty sure it's going to wind up in a "Girls of the Auto Show" blog post where men who haven't gotten laid since the recession started will have the audacity to pick apart our appearance
We're not wearing something we're supposed to be wearing and don't want to get busted if someone important happens to see it on the interweb
We wish to retain as much control of our image and how it is used as possible
You're super creepy
All of us ladies at the auto show have developed Spidey-sense and can tell from a pretty fair distance when someone is trying to sneak a photo of us. We will then send a signal to the other girls in the area and strangely all of a sudden you will notice all of our backs are facing you. I've spotted cameras with telephoto lenses on balconies trained on our information desk. I've nabbed guys trying to set us up like a bad pickpocket job, one distracting us with conversation while the other tries to snap photos of my a$$ (that's handled by clasping my fingers behind my back, covering my cheeks while flipping the photog off - I can't be identified anyway because he's only focused on my butt).
One booth babe told me she was asked by a group of teenaged boys to pose by a car of a different manufacturer than the one she repped. She told them she couldn't do that, then inquired why they didn't ask the ladies in that particular booth to do it. "We did," they said. "They told us they weren't allowed to leave the desk."
That booth babe had to break their hearts. "Boys, they just didn't want to take a picture. Sorry." To make them feel better she offered to snap one in front of one of her vehicles, but they were too dejected to even consider it.
But they asked. So if a group of horny teenaged boys can manage that level of civility, why can't you? Ah yes, because you're super creepy.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Life after auto show
There's a terrific article in this month's issue of Spin magazine about what rock stars do for a living after the fame runs out. I've often wondered about this... Not every band you hear on the radio becomes Bon Jovi or Coldplay and most won't get airplay on their second or third albums. Plain economics dictates there can only be so many studio musicians and producers, so how are these peeps who had a tantalizing taste of fame absorbed back into the mainstream?
It was interesting to read the wide variety of post-fame careers. I won't give it away by naming names and careers, but it is definitely worth a read - and it got me thinking...
What happens to booth babes when the bright lights of the auto show dim?
The first thing to understand is that the lights may dim much later than one would think, as long as you still look good. The ages of some of the men and women on the auto show circuit would astonish you. While they don't look like they are 20, they also don't look like they are close to 50, and more than a few of them are. Granted it is easier for men to get away with this than women, but I know some amazing looking women on the circuit that I pray to the auto show gods I will look like when I am their age.
But there will come a day, of course, that the siren song of the auto show turns into a death knell, and you'd better bet we all are developing our own little empires for when that day comes. I personally garner about half my income from auto show and other modeling, and the other half from two other much-loved endeavours. I have a marketing degree and a plan. There are some women who want to do this for years and years. I don't, and I have a plan for when I'm done.
And pretty much everyone does. Some leave the circuit because their acting careers are staring to take off, and auto show season takes them away from too many great auditions. Some have started their own modeling agencies or event management companies. Pharmaceutical sales (the legal kind). Yoga teachers. Clothing and shoe designers. Both the co-founder and the executive vice president of one of the two largest talent agencies handling auto show used to be booth babes. There are a few pro drivers thrown in the mix. Television and film producers. Visual and performance artists.
Here are some jobs for which I am qualified after I leave the auto show circuit:
Circus ringmaster
Airplane emergency evacuation coordinator (since I've seen the demos so many times)
Substitute Mommy (since you certainly aren't parenting your kids at the show)
Convention center dietician (try to maintain a model's figure on convention food, I dare you)
Suspicious smell/stain/scratch inspector
Torturous-but-beautiful shoe tester
Fire scientist
Traveling wardrobe coordinator (must make sure nothing happens to my own 15-piece wardrobe set through seven months of coast-to-coast traveling on multiple airlines with spotty baggage records)
Traveling mercenary (at the very least I know how to protect and defend myself in dangerous situations and ma not afraid to do so)
Hostage negotiator/suicide prevention (have talked a lot of angry-and-taking-it-out-on-the-world types off the ledge at almost every show) (See 'I am not the president of GM')
I do actually have my own little plan. You'll see one of these days.
It was interesting to read the wide variety of post-fame careers. I won't give it away by naming names and careers, but it is definitely worth a read - and it got me thinking...
What happens to booth babes when the bright lights of the auto show dim?
The first thing to understand is that the lights may dim much later than one would think, as long as you still look good. The ages of some of the men and women on the auto show circuit would astonish you. While they don't look like they are 20, they also don't look like they are close to 50, and more than a few of them are. Granted it is easier for men to get away with this than women, but I know some amazing looking women on the circuit that I pray to the auto show gods I will look like when I am their age.
But there will come a day, of course, that the siren song of the auto show turns into a death knell, and you'd better bet we all are developing our own little empires for when that day comes. I personally garner about half my income from auto show and other modeling, and the other half from two other much-loved endeavours. I have a marketing degree and a plan. There are some women who want to do this for years and years. I don't, and I have a plan for when I'm done.
And pretty much everyone does. Some leave the circuit because their acting careers are staring to take off, and auto show season takes them away from too many great auditions. Some have started their own modeling agencies or event management companies. Pharmaceutical sales (the legal kind). Yoga teachers. Clothing and shoe designers. Both the co-founder and the executive vice president of one of the two largest talent agencies handling auto show used to be booth babes. There are a few pro drivers thrown in the mix. Television and film producers. Visual and performance artists.
Here are some jobs for which I am qualified after I leave the auto show circuit:
Circus ringmaster
Airplane emergency evacuation coordinator (since I've seen the demos so many times)
Substitute Mommy (since you certainly aren't parenting your kids at the show)
Convention center dietician (try to maintain a model's figure on convention food, I dare you)
Suspicious smell/stain/scratch inspector
Torturous-but-beautiful shoe tester
Fire scientist
Traveling wardrobe coordinator (must make sure nothing happens to my own 15-piece wardrobe set through seven months of coast-to-coast traveling on multiple airlines with spotty baggage records)
Traveling mercenary (at the very least I know how to protect and defend myself in dangerous situations and ma not afraid to do so)
Hostage negotiator/suicide prevention (have talked a lot of angry-and-taking-it-out-on-the-world types off the ledge at almost every show) (See 'I am not the president of GM')
I do actually have my own little plan. You'll see one of these days.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Your kids suck, too
While we're on the subject of disgusting mothers, let's talk about their a$$hole kids while we're at it.
I actually really like kids. Well-behaved kids, well-supervised kids, kids who have been taught to be respectful of property which does not belong to them. I am not a fan of kids who are allowed to do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want to whatever the hell they want.
Here are some things I have seen your kids do at the auto show:
Licking the rear seat control mechanisms
Jumping on the seats of a car that costs more than their college educations will like a trampoline
Wiping their boogers on the steering wheel
Digging in their diapers right before grabbing a door handle
Locking themselves in the trunk
Climbing onto my spinning platform mid-presentation
Trying to break into the private back area of our information desk
Smearing their ice cream cones on the windows
Smashing their sticky lollipops into the seats
Yanking on the turn signal sticks with their full body weight
Actually, I take it back - it isn't the kids who are a$$holes, it's the parents. If I had even contemplated doing any of these things as a child I would have gotten the spanking of my life. The kids don't know any better because their parents haven't taught them to know any better, because the parents are A) incompetent and B) ignorant. You don't bring your kid to an incredibly crowded event then not pay attention to him. You sure as hell don't bring your kid into my incredibly busy display then watch while he tries to destroy this vehicle and expect me to stand idly by. I will kick your kid out of the car, I will use a stern voice, and I will tell you to keep a better eye on your monster if you plan on spending any more time in our display. Don't like it? Imagine how you would feel if I sent my nephew into your office to pour a milkshake all over your Herman Miller chair, set your trash can on fire then vomit on your desk.
We could call it even.
I actually really like kids. Well-behaved kids, well-supervised kids, kids who have been taught to be respectful of property which does not belong to them. I am not a fan of kids who are allowed to do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want to whatever the hell they want.
Here are some things I have seen your kids do at the auto show:
Licking the rear seat control mechanisms
Jumping on the seats of a car that costs more than their college educations will like a trampoline
Wiping their boogers on the steering wheel
Digging in their diapers right before grabbing a door handle
Locking themselves in the trunk
Climbing onto my spinning platform mid-presentation
Trying to break into the private back area of our information desk
Smearing their ice cream cones on the windows
Smashing their sticky lollipops into the seats
Yanking on the turn signal sticks with their full body weight
Actually, I take it back - it isn't the kids who are a$$holes, it's the parents. If I had even contemplated doing any of these things as a child I would have gotten the spanking of my life. The kids don't know any better because their parents haven't taught them to know any better, because the parents are A) incompetent and B) ignorant. You don't bring your kid to an incredibly crowded event then not pay attention to him. You sure as hell don't bring your kid into my incredibly busy display then watch while he tries to destroy this vehicle and expect me to stand idly by. I will kick your kid out of the car, I will use a stern voice, and I will tell you to keep a better eye on your monster if you plan on spending any more time in our display. Don't like it? Imagine how you would feel if I sent my nephew into your office to pour a milkshake all over your Herman Miller chair, set your trash can on fire then vomit on your desk.
We could call it even.
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