This weekend I experienced my first Comicon.

For those unfamiliar, Comicon is intended to be a massive festival of the popular arts (specifically comic books) and all the forms of media that they inspire (TV, film, digital). In reality Comicon is a marketing platform for the major networks and studios and a party for anyone in Los Angeles who could come up with an excuse to go (…or girls whose boyfriends have a legit reason and a bay-facing hotel room).

This weekend I also experienced my first of another entertainment industry phenomenon: the sub 10 minute “agenting”.

R and I went to a few parties thrown by the major agencies in town (ICM, CAA, UTA, etc). These are “parties” in that there is free alcohol, a specially arranged DJ and people milling about in a manner befitting of parties, but in reality these are networking events in that you have an opportunity to check in with people you do/would like to do business with, make connections with new people you might do business with and interact with people who you have no intention of doing business with but must still treat pleasantly in case they want to do business with you or currently do business with someone you know. (Just read it twice) And among the people you may/may not currently/eventually do business with are the agents. I won’t get into the nitty gritty of what an agent is and what an agent does, just know that everything you see on Entourage is 100% accurate.

The agent has a lot of “work” to do at these “parties.” They have people to check in with, people to meet, and people to introduce to other people. Each encounter requires a different set of conversation elements. A check-in conversation with a working writer client is completely different from a meet and greet with a new piece of talent and nothing at all like a hello to a producer with whom they’re hoping to do business. It’s all a delicate, choreographed dance with secret moves all performed in a slick suit and skinny tie.

As a result of all this, the agent’s time with each person is very limited, and as a result of that they are known to perform the sub ten minute “agenting” – an impressively compact convo in which all necessary pleasantries are exchanged and questions addressed before the agent slips seamlessly back into the night.

“You realize what just went down there, right?” R said to me as the black suited figure we’d been talking to sashayed away.

“We just got agented, didn’t we,” I said.

“Yep,” he said. “Big time.”

I want to be clear about something before we go on. Agenting is not, in-and-of-itself, a slimey act. R and I had a very nice conversation with a very professional person who paid close and uninterrupted attention to both of us throughout the chat. It is the nature of the agent not the act of agenting that induces eye-rolls. Think of it like the shaking hands and kissing babies of the entertainment industry. When a pro does it well it’s a thing of beauty. When a slime ball does it like a slime ball, it’s slimey.

And now without further back story I give you the parts of the agenting act:

1. Salutation – fast, direct, and complimentary. The agent wants you to know that he knows who you are, is excited to see you, and intents to engage in conversation.

“Jessie Rosen! Great to see you. You’re looking fantastic tonight.” (smile, clink of glasses, cheek kiss)

2. Humorous acknowledgment of event as segue to conversation. This is where we collectively laugh at our surroundings.

“Welcome to L.A. south, right?” or “I trust you’ve seen everyone you’ve ever met?”

3. Acknowledgment or awareness of the significant things going on in your work life.

“Hey, congrats on the ___________. I was talking to ______ and ______ about you just the other day. Really great stuff..”

This is followed by a few lines of detailed insight into whatever work you’ve been doing. It’s the agent’s goal here to let you know that they know what you’re up to and to provide a little insight/advice into how they feel that is or should be going.

It doesn’t matter whether or not an agent works for you, wants to work for you or has no interest in your career what-so-ever – it is their goal to prove that they know what’s up and can provide a valuable opinion. I’m generalizing here, of course. A music agent obviously doesn’t need to know all the details of someone’s screenwriting career, but a good TV/lit agent would know about a writer’s popular, independent digital project.

4. Brief personal check-in

“And all’s well otherwise? You guys doing any more trips or vacations this Summer?”

The agent will add pieces of their own Summer plans and life update into this part of the conversation. Detail varies based on how well you know the agent. This is the part of the conversation meant to prove that the entire conversation wasn’t about business.

5. Polite excuse to exit

“Well I’m sorry to say I’ve got to make the rounds, but please enjoy yourselves. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again over the weekend.” (smile, clink of glasses, cheek kiss).

And in a flash he’s gone. It really is a thing to behold.

Of course, I’m in no position to poke fun. Ask anyone in L.A. what conversation stereotype is even worse than a sub 10-minute agenting and they’ll all tell you the same thing: the way over 10 minute conversation with a writer who just started working on/is about to start working on/is thinking about starting to work on a brilliant new idea and wants to pitch it to you in the middle of a crowded party.