The Maņana Factor
That didn't work. I remember coming to L.A. years ago from the east coast and attempting to conduct business and make new friends. Everyone knows the stereotype, "I'll have my girl call your girl and we'll do lunch," after which nobody's girl called anybody and lunch was had elsewhere. I remember waiting for phone calls and looking at my watch at restaurants wondering WTF? I learned not to expect too much and to call and remind people prior to meetings.
I called my 'assistant' yesterday morning and confirmed our meeting. I then spent a few hours reading up on photography techniques, taking test shots around the house and thinking of locations in town that I remembered. Thirty minutes after our rendezvous was to take place I decided to check my phone messages, as service down here can be sketchy. Sure enough, it was Cleo passing on an apology that Laura couldn't make it but would be happy to come with me maņana.
I've run into the maņana factor several times since I've been here, to which I say, "maņana." I did some research and found a local business that provides assistants to gringos, went to meet one, and settled on a price. We go out maņana. Oy.
Today promises to be beautiful so far. It's early, 6:30 or so, and the sky is clear as the sun is coming up over the wall in my back yard. I'm going to head into the city to scout some locations.
