Halloween Story

I spent Halloween with my client, Pinky Megiston. Pinky is a very famous actress and I consult with her on security issues, both physical and cyber. Beyond all her security gates—to which I know the passwords—I arrived at her front door with a bouquet of orange flowers. I always knock first. If my arrival is anticipated, she is near the door and can hear the knock. If she could care less of my arrival, she’ll be upstairs and away. That’s when I have to ring the doorbell.

By the mere fact that I was ringing the doorbell, I knew Pinky was annoyed with me. It always pays to know your clients—and I know Ms. Megiston extremely well.

The flowers were a good start; Pinky’s cheerleader costume was a nice progression. But then things took a turn south all of the sudden.

“What are you dressed as?” she asked.

“An actor on his way to an audition but who is stopping by the gym to work out first,” I jived.

“You don’t look like an actor. You look like a dork.”

“Actors aren’t supposed to look like actors; they’re supposed to look like the character they are playing.”

“So you’re a dork.”

“No, I’m an actor.”

“One day you’re an actor, the next day you’re a rapper,” she said. “You know I don’t be datin’ rappers.”

“I got my SAG card, Baby, I’m an actor.” I quoted like I was Common.

She turned around and laughed, and we ended up at a haunted mansion, where we turned out the lights, on our Halloween story.

Halloween