Just Shake The Stripper'sHand

Then leave. Right away.

There isn't much I can say about Moriarity, New Mexico. Most of it was blanketed by a fresh snowfall but I get the feeling the average passerby wouldn't have even noticed the placed existed if it hadn't been, if that makes any sense.

The location of yesterday's shoot was located just off Exit 203 on 40 East. It consisted of three things: A Diner, A Seedy Motel, and A Topless Bar. That's it. Oh, there were the fun, family themed camp grounds on the opposite side of I-40 but other than that, snow just stretched on towards the horizon in all directions.

I want to recount some crazy story from the set but the truth is, this crew is so organized that we're having a pretty tough time as far as the documentary goes. Anytime a problem crops up, it gets resolved so quickly and so efficiently that the dramatic tension just falls flat on its face.

Still, this first week has been pretty basic so I shouldn't expect too much. There's still a car chase, stowing away on a freight train, a fight scene or two, and the two main characters stretched out on the runway as airplanes pass directly overhead (Wayne's World?) to look forward to. Speaking of car chases, I am sad to announce that B. Mac is no longer part of the cast. They're still working on alternatives (they have until next week till his character begins shooting) so I won't say who for now. But where was I...

Ah yeah, the topless bar. I didn't bother to look up the name (foolish, because it would have been hilarious, I'm sure) but the inside was everything you could possibly hope for in strip club in The Middle Of Nowhere, New Mexico. The decor (if you can call it that with a straight face), the patrons, the scantily clad girls from the local community college...all of it smacked of Hollywood artificiality - I really thought I was on some sort of carefully studied (perhaps even overly so) film set...but no, these people were the real deal. There was even a crude hand drawn sign over the front door that read "No Prostitution" in thin green marker.

I know what you're thinking, what business did I have in there (the woman in charge of catering certainly had some raised eyebrows and "What Would Your Mother Say?" type queries for us later)? But understand that it was the only place large enough to accommodate the crew for meals throughout the day. So that morning, while I was eating a vegetable omelette 10 yards away from a dance pole while listening to AC/DC's "Hell's Bells," I didn't think it could get any more surreal.

It was topped only by the director leading "me" (read: the camera) away from the set in the diner, through the kitchen, and beyond a back door that opened up directly into the back of the topless bar where a hefty woman in a fluorescent pink (black lights and all) g string was gyrating to Rammstein's "Du Hast." Not that anyone in there realized it was completely inappropriate to pair attempts at arousal with a rejection of traditional German wedding vows (thanks, Internet!) but whatever allows for the most pelvic thrusts I guess...?

Even weirder was after we had wrapped for the day and Owens and I stopped in for a quick sip before embarking on an hour long trip through a snowfall so thick and fast that it was just enough to be a serious hindrance without becoming downright dangerous. Sorry that wasn't really a sentence. But yeah, we were in there for all of 10 minutes when MC's "Heartbreaker" came on. If only it had happened an hour or two earlier when she (undoubtedly) poked her head in for a laugh.

As for the stripper? I didn't catch her name but she approached the table where Owens and I were seated (Space Balls 2: The Search For More Money) and we introduced ourselves. A word of advice to my friend Jason if you're reading this: Steer clear of titty bars in Moriarty. You're only going to remind that poor freshman girl of the two guys who booked it about two seconds after she smiled and said, "I'll be right back."