So, yesterday I went to report on an independent film shoot for one of the newspapers I write for. When I got to the shoot, they were desperately low on extras for one scene, so I got roped into participating. In a nutshell, we were supposed to be hanging out in front of a Cuban restaurant at the moment when Fidel Castro suddenly dies, and a massive celebration erupts. Okay cool, so I danced around with a feather boa and a Cuban flag for a bit.
However, everything didn’t get finished, so for continuity, I’m back today, up since 6:30 a.m., wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Luckily, they are feeding us lots of Cuban coffee, which in this form is so strong you have to drink it out of these thimble-like plastic cups.
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