“I will not be returning. Thank you for 12 years of employment. I’m very grateful.”
And with those 15 words, I have officially quit my job at Universal Studios Hollywood. All of the sweet, none of the bitter. I moved to LA on October 22nd, 2008 and began my tenure at Universal on December 6th. I wanted to be a tour guide but alas, they were only hiring for front gate staff, specifically ticket sellers. As a puffy-faced, bright-eyed little schoolboy, I was excited to have a job that would secure my finances until I made it as an actor. I was 23. I planned to be out by the time I turned 27.
Four years should do it. A few national commercials, co-stars to guest stars to series regulars. I know it usually takes longer but I was confident. Too confident. Had I known I wouldn’t escape until triple that timeline, I’m not sure I would have ever signed up in the first place. The “man” that entered that theme park had no idea what he was signing up for to be an entertainer in LA. Difficult, of course. But the number of times I would crawl back to that ticket booth after having a life-changing night was unfathomable.
Huge comedy shows, TV appearances, epic parties — all of them came with a caveat. “I have work tomorrow.” Every holiday when my friends would be gathering and celebrating. “I can’t go. I have to work.”
I never felt embarrassed to have a day job. Part of pursuing your dreams is having financial stability. Having to do work that didn’t fill my purpose drove me to go harder at night. But some days, I had to question what the hell I was still doing there.
So many times I would get called into a meeting with my managers. It’s the same feeling when the principal wanted to see me in middle school. I don’t know what I did, but it’s not good. I’d sit down at a table with my bosses on one side, and me, all by my lonesome on the other. While it was a mere four feet across, the distance may as well have been a mile. Mentally, I was never there. They would drone on about a guest complaint or an inappropriate joke I made to a coworker, meanwhile I would be in dreamland thinking about how later that night I was on a show with Sarah Silverman. I’m on the same flyer with the woman who was my screensaver in college. I probably shouldn’t tell her that.
Don’t get the wrong idea; I was an ideal employee. I was punctual, had a great attitude, and could upsell a front of the line pass to a family of disabled veterans living off food stamps. But being that the company was so corporate, any discrepancy had to go through multiple channels of disciplinary actions. All of which were a complete waste of mine and Universal’s time.
Looking back over the 12 years, I spent probably close to a hundred hours in those offices explaining myself for minute, petty, and horrendously arbitrary situations. I almost quit so many times, but constantly reminded myself that it would be the same level of bullshit somewhere else, and I would probably make far less money and incur even more responsibilities. Having a mindless job is paramount to me being a successful comedian.
The reason I never walked in with a loaded verbal gun and began firing my “fuck yous” was simple. I told myself when I was hired that it was the last job I would ever have that wasn’t directly connected to my passion. Had I known that it would last as long as it did, I may have turned that metaphorical gun into an actual weapon and blown my brains out in front of the Shrek Theatre. Sorry kids, an actual ogre has committed suicide. Please go back to the Simpsons ride.”
I often think about the amount of energy I spent dealing with the crap that goes into working for a major company. But in the end, that’s any job. There is always someone there who has to check a box that will undoubtedly take a shit in your mouth. Sometimes intentional, but often you’re just a cog in the machine and they need a certain number of disciplines to offset the pizza party we are getting in the breakroom. Two slices only. Yes, we are watching
They were always watching.
I could sit here and regale you with tales of the countless times I almost got fired over absolute meaningless reasons. I could explain how I was so good at my job that I was often awarded Salesman of the Month, and a couple of times Salesman of the Year. I outsold my nearest coworker by literally millions of dollars and all I received was a certificate thanking me for my achievements. I could tell you about how I fought back against the establishment because “that’s the way it is” never comforted me as an answer to a question.
The reason why I won’t is that there isn’t a point. I always knew the job would be temporary and told myself that every day as I strapped on my magnetic name tag. I dreamt of the day I walked out of there, never to return. Little did I know on March 14th, 2020, I would never step into that uniform again. Coincidentally that was also my first AGT audition for season 15. From my stupid salsa dancer/flight attendant-looking uniform, straight to being lost in Sofia Vergara’s doe eyes and giant melons. I still love you. Please call me back.
I mean it when I say I’m grateful. My employment allowed me to pursue comedy without worrying about how I would pay rent. When I told my management team I needed to travel across the country to do a club during a “peak” week, they did their best to accommodate. While some of my experiences were littered with negativity from superiors that didn’t understand why I was always tired, others were loaded with adoration of coworkers and bosses who thought what I was doing was cool as fuck. One time I walked into the break room and everyone was watching me on Roast Battle, celebrating my victories.
Being surrounded by every walk of life was good for me. Hollywood can be shameful and soul-crushing, but none of these people cared about that. It reminded me of what was important, but also that I had to get out of there so the theme park didn’t dictate when I would tour or go on vacation. Also, I was really sick of getting recognized in the middle of my shift and explaining to a guest who has seen me on TV why I am now asking them for a second credit card because their first one was declined. Thanks for being a fan, you better call your bank.
I accomplished a fuck ton over the last twelve years. When I began that job, I hadn’t even started doing stand-up. The fact that I’m passed at major clubs, have filmed huge TV spots, landed a few acting jobs, even that I have haters, is all because I believed in myself while subsequently never thinking I was better than having to clock in and go to work. Yes, you saw me at the Comedy Store last night. No, I cannot give you a discount. They’re watching...
I’ll tell you the moment I knew I was never going back. During the quarterfinals of AGT, they put me up at the Hilton which overlooks Universal. From my window on one of the top floors, I could see the main plaza. Those four little booths, that I spent god knows how many thousands of hours in, were staring back at me from hundreds of feet below. I was about to shoot live television on one of the biggest shows in the world. Returning to that job was now impossible.
Whatever you do, do it as well as you can. If I hadn’t been a model employee in so many facets of the job, I would have never gotten away with all the favors I received. On more than one occasion, when my boss told me that I couldn’t get time off, I looked directly at them and said, “Then fire me.” They caved. Every time. Yes, I was that Shrekkin good at selling tickets to muggles.
In closing, I am taking this move to be a big one. I promised myself that would be my last day job and I’m going to do everything in my power to sustain that truth. There will be moments of scarcity, of fear, of gut-wrenching anxiety, but in the end, I’m more prepared than ever.
I know how to sell tickets. But from now on, I’ll only be selling them to my own shows. And that’s a wrap on Universal Studios Hollywood: The Entertainment Capital of LA. I’m clocked out.