Happy Wife, No Life

The new guy barged into my space at work to tell me he'd been uploading footage from the day before. And that the copy time is taking FOREVER. I get that. Everyone's project is different. It never changes. Though, every production likes to think they are the only one we focus on. We're stupid like that. You are at the mercy of machines and tapes and whatever the production gave you. And it's usually not optimal. It's usually the cheapest. He griped about some aerial footage that was given to him on a pro-sumer drive. BIG CRAPPY MISTAKE. Once again...we shoot it, you fix it.

So he goes on to tell me about his wife. Who was yelling at him as to where he was. Bro...you're at work. Working to keep her in diamonds or whatever broads like.
"Yeah, I know."
"Well" I says "happy wife, happy life."
"She does make me happy, check out this video she made me"
To which he showed me a video that she made of her in a sexy top cooking with her two old ass aunts. Filipino people. The dude I'm talking to is a White guy.

I nod...cool, I think. She's a prize for sure. But...BUT....the reality is...man cannot function on being asked where we are. We are most likely working or doing something fun without you. Which makes that shit fun. This dude is SO pussy whipped, he doesn't realize...oh it's just too gruesome to mention what this chick will be like in a few years. If they last that long. See, they'd just been married in April. And he's still enamored with her. That fresh car smell is going to go fast.

The morning we're speaking of also was due to the fact that she needed a ride to work. She Uber'd it. Which I'm certain is more than a bus token. Why? I inquired. Dunno, she's been taking Uber since I met her.

Bro...this is the definition of "high maintenance." Others will disagree, but knowing you have one car to share...can only afford, yet money goes to a essentially a taxi? I get the thought process...this is only a one time thing. But ANYONE in post production knows...this will go on and on and on. You will forget birthdays, anniversaries, kids in hot cars...and so forth. I pity this nice young guy. He is so friendly, and addresses me by my first name like a salesman...it's too bad...the gentle slide he'll take into losing this treasure he holds so dear and is a cement block on his way to the bottom of the Hudson.

But that's just me being cynical.