My coolth wilted at The Ivy under the gaze of a brittle maître d’


My coolth wilted at The Ivy under the gaze of a brittle maître d’

FREE TO READ | It was a dream – me and My Agent among the stars, talking about my career – until I heard a familiar icy voice

It’s the coolth, you see. It’s the coolth and the sophistication – that’s what I bring to any occasion. 

I’m in London this week to give a drama pitch and it turns out my agent is here at the same time, so he invited me to dinner on Monday night. 

I’ve never met my agent before. We’ve Skyped a few times, which is to say I’ve sat in front of a laptop grinning like a ventriloquist’s dummy and nodding hopefully while his image freezes on the screen four seconds out of every 10 and I manage to catch every third or fourth word. It’s important not to seem like a yokel when dealing with Hollywood agents. You can’t push your face up close to the screen and keep saying: “What? What’s that?” like someone’s granny using Skype for the first time. No, at all times, maintain your coolth. So although I’ve never really understood anything he’s ever said, I just nod and smile and think: “Ooh, I’m talking to My Agent!”..

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