WHEN IN DOUBT, GO BALLS OUT.

Here’s the true story of how I got my first big producing job on a network show. It combines the art of bullshit along with an unorthodox plea of desperation.

I had been in “the biz” for a little more than two years, and I had worked my way up from a low-level researcher to a segment producer on an ABC-TV’s “The Home Show.” One of my bosses at the time had defected for another new show called “Leeza,” a one-hour daytime talk show for NBC. It was a big deal. There were only about six producers who would be hired, and she thought I could be one of them. I didn’t. You’re joking, I thought. I had never written and produced a one-hour show before, and I was in no way qualified for the job. I had only done six-minute segments on cooking rump roast and buying the perfect glue gun, so there was clearly NO WAY I could handle heady topics and all of the production involved in carrying my own 1-hour show! Well, if she’s that stupid to recommend me, I decided to humor her and play along.

Because of her referral, I was quickly granted a meeting with the executive in charge of production, but it was that typical cookie-cutter ordeal. Blah, blah, blah. I left feeling like I just wasted a perfectly good hour of my life.

But something was happening; my own bullshitting was having an affect on me. I was convincing myself that this wasn’t out of reach. I was going to get this damned job.

The receptionist at the time, who has since become one of my best friends, still remembers all of my follow-up calls after my initial interview. “It’s that little, perky person, Tracy Mazuer, again,” she would say to her boss with sarcasm and exhaustion. “Tell her I’m not available,” the executive in charge would reply.

Between my cheerfully annoying phone calls and my old boss’s recommendation, I somehow ended up sitting in the executive producer’s office. I was terrified. I was going to be sooooo busted for my bullshit and I’d have to slink out of there with my head held in shame. But that didn’t happen. Instead this 6’6” lumbering executive producer spent my entire interview kicked back in his fancy chair reading Variety while I rambled on about how qualified I was. He didn’t hear a damned word of bullshit I said! He thanked me and escorted me out the door.

Undaunted, I began to cheerfully terrorize that receptionist again. I’m following up. Just wanted to check in. Has any decision been made? Somehow, I ended up back in the executive producer’s office having ANOTHER interview spouting the same bullshit all over again. He placed his hands on his desk, and I thought: Oh no! This son-of-a-bitch is gonna stand his huge ass up and say thank you and escort all 5”2” of me out the door. He did. He stood up, went to the door and said,

“Thanks, we’ll be making a decision soon.”

I didn’t leave my chair. “I’m not leaving without this job,” I said calmly with a grin.

He smiled and repeated himself, “Thanks, Tracy, we’ll be making a decision soon. We’ll let you know.”

“Look,” I said, and I had no idea what was coming out of my mouth next. This is what I managed to vomit up: “Here’s the deal: I’ve come in THREE times to get this job. I have no more nice clothes to wear and if you call me back for another interview, I’m screwed. This is it. My last outfit. I can’t leave without the gig.”

He smiled and dragged out the words, “Goooooodbyyyyyyyye, Traaaaaaacyyyyyyyyy.”

I left.

I got the job.

A few years later, I was promoted to supervising producer.

Sometime after that, I was fired.

Moral: When you have nothing to lose, go balls out – they’ll often appreciate your enthusiasm and your perseverance. Obviously, don’t be rude. Do it with a wink and you can get away with just about anything! Then, try not to get fired.