My life could be a sitcom.

Seriously, my life could be a sitcom.

A guy just walked into my office, he was rather sloppy and messy looking, wearing sweat pants and uncombed hair. Within the first few moments of talking to him it’s apparent that he’s “special”, talking much like a child and no eye contact, very nervous. He continues by asking me if we do movie editing, which I in return ask him if he’ll be getting more copies of it made and what he wants... “Well there’s this new movie out called Star Trek and there’s this REALLY GROSS sex scene in it and we want to take out”. I look at him for a moment... *blink blink* I hold my composure and conduct myself in a very businesslike manner by telling him that I was sorry but we don’t edit or copy movies like that – He walks out with his head down.

I would say I’m a dream killer, but um... I think most dreams involve gross sex... or at least mine do.