Arguing 101

First and foremost, when engaging in an argument that has to do with lack of money for food, the only logical way to win is to faint due to lack of food/water.



First off heres the situation. The agency will give you 50 euros a week to live on. 50 euros barely cuts it. Think laundry is 12 euros (if you hang dry), and you will spend a minimum of 15 euros a week on transit (on average). So that leaves 23 euros for food, that works out to be pasta and sauce, and bottled water. The water here doesn't seem safe, the few times I refilled my water bottle I got sick (seems other people have run into the same problem) so I steer clear of it. Due to my lack of funds, they gave me 30 euros for the week. Lets do the math. 8 euros for laundry (no white load) and then 15 on travel. 23 euros. So that is 7 left. So after water (a must) that leave me with 5 euros for a weeks worth of food.

Tell me now if you don't follow.

I buy 1kg of pasta, ~2 euros, 2 pasta sauces, ~3 euros. So that is about lunch and dinner (no breakfast) for 2 days, if i stretch it.

So today was my third day of this (i managed to save a small bowl for lunch today).




The day starts, I cruse over to a casting on the far side of town (to far to walk), about 45 min. I get to the door, another model is trying to open it, and then we wait for a bit hitting the bell. Eventually it is unlocked and we walk inside (by this point 2 more models have joined us) to have a guy come out of a door down the stairs, and yell "the casting was yesterday, i don't know what elite is trying to do but the casting was yesterday" in his broken english. OKAY. So thats a little bit of a kick in the nuts, so I spend another euro to get home (my metro pass has run out for the month, so i have to pay again till i know if it is worth filling up again). Thats 2 euros, Thats 1 days food/water.

As pissed as I am, I head home before going to the agency (trying to get a point across while angry never works.... damn the coop for teaching me lessons). sit down, eat the rest of my breakfast (so the other half of my half bowl of pasta) and drink the last of my water (about a glass of it).

Oh yea, it was hot today, higher 30's would be my guess.

Anyways I eventually muster up the nerve (I can say that right? it makes sense?) to head over to the agency to talk about my flight. At this point I am still thinking what Nico told me is true, he told me he heard them say I was headed home on Friday. Since I hadn't got a confirmation email I was kind of confused.

So over I go, remember its hot. Everyone is walking on the shaded side of the street, even if it means walking with your shoulder against the wall. Eventually I get to the agency to have them tell me the way I behaved yesterday was bad and one of them said "I'm scared of you". Yea fucking right... Is that the reason you can't do your job? So I half joke and say "well at least one of you got it"... To which they respond "why are you mad at us... Aaaaaaaaand the floodgates broke. I'm sorry for what I did, only because if I had been thinking better I would have had the balls to raise it with them a while ago.

Whats done is done.

So I tell them I'm sick of getting screwed around (Them being the booker who first dealt with me, and the second one, I shall call them Thing one and Thing two). So Thing one takes up the argument and puts up a decent defence. We get kicked out of the building cause Thing Boss doesn't like it. So we go out to the balcony/fire escape/smoking platform, so continue the fight. We go at it for a while, I would guess 15-20 min, anyway we got through a lot of shit, stuff started to make sense... Then Thing Two came out, and just got up in my face (I realize that Italian people don't get the personal space thing, but it still piss' me off), and they tried to tag team me. Due to there low IQ's, unstructured arguements, and the fact I grew up with a lawyer (Professional arguer) it took maybe 5 min before I had Thing Two back on it's heels. By this point Thing One and I had sorted most of it out, and it was on my side/ acting translator for the most part. After another age (remember I was out side in the sun, walking around all day, and little food/water) Thing One gets a phone call (I had raised this as a point earlier on in the argument, and she hung up on once, I believe, then the second time she said "I really have to take this, can I?". Thing One has just hopped back into my Good Book (doesn't that refer to the bible? the Good Book?) anyways) Thing One leaves and Thing Two just starts again. At this point my mouth is pretty dry. I defend my self for a bit (Amazing how I could shoot him down one second, and his argument would come up again 2 points later. Thing Two is very good at rotating his arguments, great for killing time, bad for winning anything) eventually I start getting light headed and tell him I need some water, I get the whole "yea yea sure sure" look from Thing Two. But I needed it, so I pushed past him and into the door...frame. Yup I missed the door, by this time I knew the jig was up. He noticed it and went for some water as I went for the chair. I found the chair, I think.

I woke up on the other side of the table (this fuckers big, gotta be 3'x8') with Marco holding my feet in the air (I would assume to get the blood to my head) and my head in some bookers hands (he was from the womens side, so I have never met him till now... Yea great introduction, smooth Stuart, smooth).

Kinda cool, I remember walking to the table, felt like I was really drunk (from what people have told me it would have felt like, because I don't drink...Ever) and then having some awesome dream about the big ass glass table, some food and... I don't know what else. It was good though, believe you me (what ever the fuck that means).

So yea, I was out cold. So to wake up with your feet in the air, some random person holding your head and 10-20 people staring at you isn't the best thing ever.

DON'T WORRY, I won the argument.

I heard someone say something along the lines of "You need to eat and drink more" to which I quite quickly responded "you try living on 30 euros a week". How many of you would have had the quick mind to destroy all opposition to your point of view in one sentence, after having just woken up. As my little brother would say "powned".

Anyways, I lay in the casting room feet on a chair, head on a pillow, blocking the walk to the smoking porch at the agency sweaty as hell (apparently when you faint, you sweat. Whoda thunk it?) nauseous, feeling very drunk, and very thirsty and in comes the Top Dog (don't know her name, but apparently she's nice, with questionable fashion sense) with a shot glass of sugar water and a cup of salt. I don't think they realize that lots of salt and water = throwing up, I let it slide though. So I drank the sugar water, and had a finger full of salt, and then in comes Marco with a pop and a thing of crackers. Thats thinking! So It takes me 5-20 min to eat the crackers and drink the drink (still feeling kinda drunk..from what I hear...) and recover enough to test my trust feet. In this time I checked for head damage, no bumps and me still think right. During my recovery period the guys from the womens side kept popping in to see how I was doing, one of them offered me a smoke (Italian Medical treatment, Smoke it off), and another offered me a bottle of alcohol (which I declined because I don't drink... and wasn't sure if he was joking).


So... I won that argument AND got a power nap AND a free drink and crackers!!!


So in the end it sounds like I was out for a while. I heard conversation about how some bookers managed to talk about another model fainting at a casting the day before (I don't feel special anymore *insert sad face here*) and they managed, or so I understand, my Mother agency as well.


I get to go back tomorrow and end the discussion with Thing One. Should be a ball.

Now that you have read my novel of a day, please donate to the "Stuart's a broke model and needs more bee... Food fund" and send all credit cards, debit cards (with pin), and pre-signed cheques to


Stuart's Scam
His house
Milan
Hell
666



Please keep the bills to over 50 (of your respective currency) and put a red sticker on the top of all the mail bombs/bioweapons, so I can forward them to the appropriate places.

Now I'm off to bed with the knowledge that I beat the Casino and have enough money for food tomorrow (Income tax return, not more from the agency. The Casino never lends out money, don't be stupid.)






[Edit] No luck on the coming home on Friday, seems there are "Clients" who want to see me... aka Casino wanting its $$$$$$$ back (I know I know they take a calculated risk when sending a model over, but due to the fact this business is built on Lies and Trickery, and most models leaving in the next few days, I would assume it isn't costing them any more to keep me here then they had already budgeted out. But what do I know, I'm just a dumb ol' model)