My second ever paid job was for a shaving advert. Two unpaid auditions in London and I had the gig. A one day shoot, two hundred and fifty notes. One Man had hit the paydirt!
An excruciating train ride to Edinburgh – Friday before a Bank Holiday, jam-packed with people going to York races and the two Edinburgh festivals – performers and the TV festival and the holiday rush meant standing for four hours pressed against a herd of similar misfortunates. Then a three-hour minibus ride to the hotel.
Late call the following morning saw us trying to find the crew in a 25,000-acre estate with no phone signal.
Eventually reunited we waited for five hours before our scene, precariously camped on the bank of a burn pretending to be prospectors. I “cooked” breakfast while the other two washed in the waters below.
Then a trip to Edinburgh in the minibus, overnight (about six hours) in a decent hotel and trains home to a cloudburst – taxi fro the last eight miles.
Payment duly came, the agreed two-fifty plus half pay for the two travel days plus a fee for attending the fitting (in a Luton van in a park somewhere in North London). Less commission which, admittedly. left a decent screw for three days being fed and playing in the dressing up box.
But the sweetener was the buyout – fifteen hundred notes for use of my image on screen, net or print once the ad aired. And, after about six months of anxiously checking the shaving company’s site every few days, the ad was shown on the net. And I was in it! I didn’t qualify for the buyout though. If you aren’t recognisable or if your image appears for less than three seconds you do not get paid. So I was (dis)qualified on both counts.
So bollocks to buying a razor! Oh, and did you spot me?
