AAAAAAAGGGGGHHH! I've just seen the scariest thing I could ever imagine! Hunter's primping in front of her mirror to some scuzzy hardfloor music, and she flips her hair back and SNARLS at the mirror in an attempt to be sexy or something, but she just succeeds in TERRIFYING ME! God, she's freaky in this episode. The camera pulls back, and she's wearing what can only be described as a bonafide "fuck me" outfit: black sheer stockings, a micro-mini black stretch skirt (and I do mean STRETCH -- the woman's ass is like AFRICA), a black lace bra, and a completely see-through printed blouse. I've seen less revealing outfits on the hookers that hang out on Rush Street during pledge week, people. So, anyway, she's squirming and dancing around, all enamored of her own (NON) sexiness. Finally, she tires of being her own "Private Dancer" and collapses into the sofa to await Jonah's arrival.
Unfortunately, Jonah gets delayed just outside Hunter's trailer by Courtney in her very own golf cart. Man, I'd love one of those. I'd just love to drive that to work every day. I'd gladly brave the sub-zero Chicago temperatures to putt-putt that thing all the way from Ravenswood to Evanston just so I could piss off every single commuter driver possible. Now, that's what I call fun, my friends. You can tell I'm easily amused.
So Courtney screeches up in the cart and asks Jonah if she can talk to him for a minute. "Um, look," Courtney begins unpromisingly. "I understand you might have a problem with some of my work, but I don't respond well to being humiliated in front of my co-workers." Okay, that wasn't so bad. She used some big words and managed to keep the tears under control. Jonah interrupts her to tell her that he thinks she's an amazing actress and that he sees something in her that no one else in the cast has. What, like big-ass hoop earrings and dark roots? Jonah gets into the cart and tells her that he wouldn't waste his time if he didn't think Courtney were special. Okay. I've heard this from asshole directors before and believe me, it's just not true. I believed it at the time, sure, because it made it that much easier to handle when they'd break up rehearsal in the middle of a scene screaming, "What are you doing? I MEAN, WHAT IN THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Assholes are assholes, people. And no manner of ego stroking will change that.
Hi. Welcome to my own personal problems with the acting world. And my friends wonder why I won't suck up to some tyrannical would-be directing genius for a mere ten bucks a show. THAT'S WHY. I'll make myself feel like shit, thank you very much. No need for you to handle that for me.