Jamie Mustard

I get back from London.

I decided to go back to L.A.

to try to connect with my mother, who never gave crap about me.

I mean, she'd throw me away like used toilet paper from the day I was born.

That never changed.

She always treated me like that.

Unless I was doing something in Scientology that she liked, then there would be this like little carrot of crumb of validation.

But I go back to L.A.

and I get a job working for a documentary film company and they're sending me to Cannes.

They're not paying me a lot, but they're sending me to Cannes.

So two years after I graduate college, maybe a year, six years after escaping the movement, I'm walking down the street in Cannes working for this documentary film company.

And this beautiful woman walks up to me and starts yelling at me in French.

I must have been swearing or something.

I mean, I'm the ugly American.

I did something American she didn't like is what's going through my head.

And eventually she starts going English, English.

And she says, I know you.

I said, lady, you don't know me.

I'm here on work and there's no way we could possibly know each other.

Wait, wait, wait.