It's All An Act

I'm sure we all have opinions on those certain things in life that you go through that you think everyone should experience at some point. Those that bungee jump claim you haven't lived until you take the leap. Food lovers might say the same about having some sort of provincial delicacy in the French countryside, I don't know. I would hope that sports fans might offer that you've made it once you've watched a Sox-Yankees game at either Fenway or Yankee Stadium...just a guess. I'm going to add my own version of 'you haven't lived'.

Before you die, I strongly suggest going out on a casting call or an audition from something like a pilot or a commercial. I promise you, just the sheer absurdity behind one of these things is well worth the hour or so you'll take out of your day to witness it first hand. The following is my account of this 'audition' I went to yesterday.

Hang on...I suppose I should preface of all this by saying that I've had 'representation' since I was 19. Before you get all 'what the fuck is that all about' on me, it was a brilliant idea to a kid who had just been kicked out of college for a semester and needed to fend for himself for an extended period of time. The money was supposed to be great if you could land a gig in a commercial or something, and the time commitment wasn't all that daunting. Regardless, I never did anything with it at that time because I was an idiot. I opted to work at Chili's as a server, relying on the tips of Harvard and MIT students who think that 5% is doing you a real favor. (On a side not, I eventually got fired from this job because I received the lowest 'secret shopper' score in the history of the the corporation...since when is it not okay to tell a customer to fuck off?? That score was a 42/100, FYI) Anyway, the acting thing didn't exactly pan out back then. Since then, however, I've been contacted several times by this agency for various jobs that I didn't really have an interest in. Enter: Monday morning phone call from Agency, asking if I could audition for a commercial on very short notice.

Paul at Agency: "Hi, Chad? Yeah, it's Paul from the Agency."

Me: "Oh, hey Paul. How's it going?"

Paul: "Listen, can you audition for a commercial tomorrow afternoon? Sorry for the short notice, but we're kind of desperate."

Me (feeling really special after that last remark from Paul): "Uhh, I guess. What's the commercial for?"

Paul: "Insurance or something. I"m not too clear on the details, but it's from 3-4pm tomorrow afternoon. Just bring a headshot and a resume with you, k?"

Me: "Yeah, ok. But I don't have a resume and the best I can do for a headshot is an 8x10 printed on computer paper."

Paul: "Well...ok, that's fine. Make something up on a resume though, ok? Shouldn't matter. Just be there by 4 so they can fit you in. I gotta run."

Me: "Ok. Thanks."

Now this is my kind of audition. No real idea what it's for, going in with a fabricated resume and a JV headshot, not to mention I've never been to an audition before. This should be mint. Right? Fuck yeah, right. I've never been so out of place in my entire life.

Talk about a comedy of errors from the start. The first thing you have to do at an audition is sign in and fill out a contact sheet with your information on it. Easy enough. However, there are like four or five sections on this thing that are starred, implying that these are the required fields...gotta be. I fill these in and return the pen to the table with the clipboard. After returning to the bench of 'actors' waiting to audition, I see the fine print at the bottom of the contact sheet and it reads PLEASE FILL IN ALL FIELDS; STARRED ITEMS ARE MOST IMPORTANT. Great. This is going well.

So I take care of that and I wait. As I look around, I see a mix of characters waiting alongside of me. There are three dudes: one tall, white guy in a suit with a backpack on. He's got the Zack Morris look going with the slick hair, cool smile and confidence. I immediately know he's been on thousands of these things and all the casting company crew know him by name. Me? Not so much. Second is the this really skinny Asian kid with really tall spikes in his hair. I hear the girl who's facilitating the whole thing say to him "Yeah, you're auditioning for a the cyclist role." I'm thinking to myself, cyclist role? No one said anything about cycling. Shit. I start to panic a little, nervously yawning every 20 seconds or so. In between yawns, I consider getting the fuck out of there. But I stay. The third guy is a thirty-something black guy sitting right next to me. He's got a bit of a Cuba Gooding Jr look to him and he's all smiles. Like, uncomfortably all smiles, as in there was a chance his plastic surgeon really messed up and gave him perma-grin. This settled me down a little because it was as funny as it was sad. Now, the women there...

If it isn't already abundantly clear, this commercial will feature racial harmony. There was one white girl and slew of middle-aged black women and then one younger black girl. The white girl was non-descript. She didn't make any kind of impression on me other than the fact that she was sitting there. All of the middle-aged black women had the same look: thick and horrendously bright lipstick, high heels and conservative blouses with long skirts. Every one of them could have played Saundra Cosby's stunt double on any given day, minus the lipstick. But only the younger black girl really stood out to me. She was the one person there that screamed "I'm an actress, DAMNIT." Two phones, both of which rang or buzzed about forty times over the course of a half hour; big, white sunglasses; a HUGE white, leather handbag; expensive-looking shoes (you know, the kind that can only work with like one fucking outfit? Why? WHY?), and that one phone conversation that had me think to myself, is this girl completely serious right now? about a dozen times:

Girl (tells person on one phone to hold because her other phone is ringing): "Hullo? Yeah, it's about time. Listen, I don't have a lot of--(gets cut off, getting angry)--I'm at an audition!! Listen, my A/C STILL is not working. I don't care what you have to do, I can't deal with this. I have to go."

Right. Your AC? Let's see...we've had how many warm days in the past 5 months? One? Psssssssychooooo.

So there's your cast of characters. As for me, I'm nervous the whole time. I have no idea what to expect in that room with the closed doors. All I know is that I'm surrounded by a bunch of people who have all done this before. They've all got nice, glossy headshots, professional resumes and seemingly, every hair on their heads is just where it needs to be. I've got a fake resume, a faded headshot printed on computer paper with a picture of me with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth and my hair was every way and loose. I'm in dire need of a haircut and I bought some new gel that is a far cry from the Crew Forming Cream that has spoiled my brown locks for so long. As I wait with the girl calling people in, I make light of my bogus resume and headshot. She looks at it and laughs, tells me it's fine. Sure it is. Then it's my turn, and in I go.

Much less nerve-wracking than I expected. These were taped auditions, first off. Just me and the cameraman. I had one line and I had to do it three different ways. One serious, like I was suggesting I know what I'm talking about, one relieved and one really confident. I had the same intonation and expression all three times, and twice I laughed in the middle of the take. The problem was that I had to sit at an impromptu desk for 15 seconds, pretending to work at a computer. The cameraman told me to order some food and pretend to drink my coffee...look natural. So the first time around on the 'serious' take, I ad lib that the waitress should bring me another sandwich. Another sandwich? Who gets a sandwich refill? Ridiculous. I laugh immediately following those words coming out of my mouth. Take one: FAIL.

The second time around was the relieved scenario. This time, I ad lib that I'm ordering another scone from the waitress. Another scone??? When have I ordered even one scone, nevermind a second? Yet again, I've outdone myself and I laugh pretty hard. Cameraman=not amused. Take two: FAIL.

The third and final time was my best effort. I was supposed to be confident, so my laughing could easily be translated into confidence...I think. I ad libbed ordering a bagel with extra cream cheese, showing my diversity. I then chuckle and give my line and the cameraman says "Nice, nice." Take three: DECENT.

And that was the end of my first real audition for television. I'm serious that we should all try to experience this at least once in our lives. I can guarantee you that you'll laugh a few times and see some unbelievably, remarkably hilarious people along the way. Oh, I haven't received a call back yet. YET.