I Used to Be a Hollywood Writer

It’s 5:45 a.m. on a Tuesday, and the Home Depot on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood is already bustling.  I am standing in Aisle 18 — deep in the lumber section of the cavernous space — evaluating formulations of plaster compound.  I’ve been sent here to get a 50-pound bag of “40 minute,” a box of “red dot,” a box of “green dot,” a roll of drywall tape and a roll of “frog” tape. To be clear, I don’t know what any of these things are.