Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Audition Contd.

Receive call early this morning that audition is back on for today. In horror, hear self speaking in clipped tones and asking if she is absolutely sure because I don't want to waste my time (note: should adopt this attitude more often--would snip out much needless tedium and own tendency toward sloth). Betsey is is brisk in return, says of course. You need to be there by 11. This presents small problem as have meeting with publicity department at 11. Problem quickly solved by typing email to Cindy Stevens telling her that I have a Bug and don't feel well today, then in inspired finish, say that have an appointment with Doctor. Only after press send do I feel guilty, but see no way of rescinding email. Guilt builds as take Jenny for walk and feel certain that am going to run into Cindy Stevens or other person from school, so hurry home, forgetting that Jenny has not yet done her business. Am reminded of this fact when Jenny stops at front door, digs in her heels, and lays enormous dump for all to see. Neighbor from the 10th floor gives me a hateful look as I clean up what Jenny has wrought. Upstairs, Dave says not to feel guilty--think of it as a mental health day! In mental health day of own choosing would not find self in grimy hallway of casting office in the flower district drinking badly scalded coffee which serves to only make me more nervous. Audition turns out to be for a fast food commercial, which feel should have moral objections to, but don't, perhaps because am by now mentally exhuasted from morning of guilt. Sides indicate that am to pretend french fry is an airplane and to fly it into mouth of small child, son of french fry pilot. Role of small child is played by surly looking production assistant wearing extremely tight pants, thin rocker t-shirt, and who has apparently given up his acquaintance with soap and water. Draw on feeble acting skills to overcome flourescent lighting and other earlier mentioned obstacles to success. As leave, am not even rewarded by usual fantasies of riches and fame.

1 Comments:

Blogger Whitney Smith said...

What happened to the swimsuit? I suspect your brisk attitude scared whatsername so much she sent you to a slightly more dignified audition.

3:03 AM  

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