Chapter 9 Victoria #2
“What do you do?” Victoria asked Liz. She was running out of small talk and would soon need to dash to the bathroom and Google “great first date questions.”
“I’m an editor for a TV show,” Liz told her.
“Nice! I don’t have a creative bone in my body, but I imagine it’s great to work in the arts.”
“I imagine it’s great too,” Liz said. “I wouldn’t know. I’m in reality TV. It’s not exactly high art. Or art at all.”
“Unscripted is so popular, though,” Victoria said, trying to think of something positive to say about a category of television she disliked on principle and had never personally sampled.
“Yeah, our culture’s going to hell,” Liz said. “I’m pretty sure my show was dreamed up by the devil himself.”
“Which show?”
“The Catch,” Liz replied.
“I don’t know it. But I don’t watch a lot of TV in general,” Victoria said apologetically. “I’m sure it’s great.”
“It’s not. I promise. It’s a dating contest, so basically, thirty women are isolated in a house, plied with endless amounts of alcohol, and encouraged to stab one another in the back to compete for three dream guys.
They’re total ‘catches,’ ” Liz said, putting the last word in air quotes.
“Whoever gets proposed to at the end gets a hundred grand—for the wedding, wink wink, but really it’s about potential endorsement deals, followers, and obviously, true love.
” Liz rolled her eyes. Victoria smirked.
“There’s a catch, though. Only two of the guys are straight. One’s just pretending.”
“No,” Victoria gasped. “That’s an actual show on the air?”
“It’s insanely popular.”
“In this day and age, how has everyone involved not been canceled?”
“Ratings?” Liz offered.
Victoria shook her head, baffled. “I’ll have to check it out.”
“Don’t. Trust me. In the last episode I was editing, Kylie and Kelly started a fight with Kelsie because she lied about hooking up with Finn, but Kelsie was too drunk to defend herself, so she got out of the Sprinter van and laid down on a speed bump in the middle of the street and shouted, ‘Now I’m really in your way, bitches! ’ ”
Victoria looked at Liz, wide-eyed. “Are those their real names? Or do the producers change them for narrative purposes?”
“It was probably part of the casting process, but you never know,” Liz said. “Working on it really is death by a thousand cuts.”
Now Liz looked glum rather than amused, as if the titillating nature of the show had worn off and soured. Victoria tried to steer the conversation into safer territory. “When you say editing, what exactly do you do? Decide what gets included in an episode?”
Liz shook her head. “That’s above my pay grade. I go through B-roll and make sure we didn’t miss anything exciting. The cameras are on twenty-four seven, so there’s a lot of footage to go through.”
“I’m guessing that’s a little depressing.”
“Seeing humanity at its worst? Beyond,” Liz said.
“What attracted you to editing in the first place?” The waiter delivered the pastry basket and both women dug in, but Victoria was thrilled that she didn’t need to fall back on discussing the array of carbs; conversation was now rolling.
“I think the idea that there are so many ways to tell a story. When we read a book or watch a show or a movie, it’s the final cut, but that’s only one way the story could’ve turned out.
Sometimes a filmmaker releases deleted scenes, sure, but you still don’t really see the alternate version of the story.
Including or deleting one scene can change the whole effect. ”
Victoria smiled. “I never thought about that.”
“Just not my show. It’s impossible to change something that can only be different degrees of horrible.”
“Then why don’t you make a change? Why don’t you do something else?”
Liz offered another slumped-shoulder shrug. “Once you’re in unscripted, it’s pretty hard to break into something more highbrow. Editing multiple seasons of The Catch, believe it or not, doesn’t exactly make you attractive to people doing quality work.”
“That might be the case, but you equated your job to death by a thousand cuts, and the longer you stay, the harder it will be to segue into something else.”
Liz bristled. “It’s not that simple,” she said, her tone growing stony. “I can’t just quit.” The waiter arrived with the rest of their food and had to arrange the plates like puzzle pieces on the tabletop to fit everything. Liz and Victoria sat in silence while he accomplished that.
“When you think about quitting, what’s the hardest part?” Victoria continued, unable to stop herself.
“I need a job. A paycheck. Benefits and health insurance. Especially now. Do you know how much it costs to have a baby?”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
Liz blanched. “Uh…what?”
Liz’s reaction indicated that she had meant the question rhetorically, or Victoria had supplied a number much higher than what Liz had in mind. Either way, Victoria had made a gaffe, allowing her concierge OB’s fee to roll off her tongue so easily.
“Or less. Or more,” Victoria said. Liz’s face fell further. It was like Victoria was trying to make it worse. “Whatever the number, obviously, it’s a lot. The health care system in this country is fundamentally broken.” Why didn’t Victoria get an actual soapbox to stand on?
Liz gave little more than a grunt in response. Victoria didn’t blame her.
“Look, I understand. It’s always been nonnegotiable to me to be financially independent,” Victoria said, trying and failing to do damage control.
Liz picked up a fry. “Must be nice,” she said. The subtext was clear: Easy for you to say “Do what you want” when you reek of privilege.
They finished their food quickly, making inconsequential chitchat, both racing towards the conclusion of the brunch like it was the finish line of a marathon.
Victoria paid the check, Liz thanked her, and Victoria told her, “It’s my pleasure,” though she was sure neither of them had enjoyed themselves very much.
How had it all gone off the rails so quickly?
Victoria and Liz walked outside to the valet, and like an ill-fated date that both parties knew would not be followed up on, they exchanged half-hearted pleasantries.
“Have a good rest of your day.”
“You too. Have a great weekend.”
The valet attendants brought the cars around and Victoria and Liz awkwardly said goodbye. As Victoria watched Liz walk away, she thought, I’ll never see her again.