I sit next to a couple of filmmakers. They’re talking about raising money for their feature. She shows him a poster she made for the pitch to investors. He has notes, which are accompanied by hugs.
Next, they move to a discussion of potential credits. She insists that she “won’t get screwed this time.” He agrees, but doesn’t offer any hugs.
They get an email from a potential investor she met on Facebook.
“Did he read the script?”
She says he did read the script, then she reads the email to her partner.
“I found this script offensive and vulgar in every conceivable way,” the email begins. “Sorry, but that’s my opinion. Matching filmmakers with investors is a lot like dating — it’s important to know who you’re getting in bed with. Feel free to unfriend me.”
The man rolls with it, says they should unfriend the investor. But his partner is in no mood. She bursts into tears, screams that it smells like “patchouli oil in here.”
She packs up and leaves. He orders a muffin to go, packs, and follows a few minutes later.
For the record, the smell of patchouli oil disappeared soon after they left.