A Day at my Real Job
On Monday morning, I woke up at 8am. Considering that I usually get up at 6:30am, this was considered sleeping in. I had breakfast (another unatural occurence since I am usually in a rush) and took a shower (a regular occurence - I like to smell nice). I printed off my resume, attached it to a headshot, and began to fuss over what to wear (thank you global warming). I settled on an outfit I wore for another audition this past weekend, which I thought mixed in the right amount of business with casual. I do my hair and makeup. I checked my backpack for my laptop, my wallet, my bus ticket to Montreal and back, a book, my makeup bag, directions to the audition, my braces paraphenelia, and my house keys. I throw in two copies of my resume headshot, just in case. I also throw in a sweater and a scarf, just in case (thank you global warming). I put the dog in his pen with his peanut butter bomb. I leave the house and head to the greyhound station.
Halfway to the bus stop, I realize I forgot my cellphone and go back.
I leave the house and head to the greyhound station, again.
It was a gorgeous day. While I sat on the bus, on my way to Montreal for an audition, I felt butterflies in my stomach as I realized that I'm an actor and this is part of my job. I am lucky.
The production office for Prank Patrol was only two blocks from the Voyageurs station. I went in knowing that I was suppose to improvise some sort of scene for an episode called "The Audition" where I would be a Casting Director. Easy enough, I happen to have experience in that department. I read over the sign-in sheet: Episode title "The Restaurant", character name The Rat Wrangler.
...
Uh, maybe it's a typo?
No, it's not a typo. I begin to wonder what kind of improv this will involve. I picture myself rolling around on the floor trying to catch rats. I look at the girls around me. They're all wearing flats. I look at my feet. I'm not.
...
It's finally my turn. Whatever, I'm just going to have fun. They ask me about the show. I said I'd never seen it but I looked it up and any show that involves ninjas must be a surefire hit. They liked that. We do an improv where they ask me about the Rat Wrangling business. Words fly out of my ass. Something about growing up on a farm and how moldy cheese and peanut butter are the best kind of training material. I'm having a blast. When they're done asking me questions, there's this stunned silence.
"Did you really grow up on a farm?" the girl behind the table asks.
"Uh, no," I reply.
"Wow, you really had me going there!"
We shake hands and part ways. I grab a bite to eat and head back to the bus station. I'm home by 5:45pm.
I have no idea if I got the part and I'm 75$ poorer than when I first left town. But man, if I could do that every day, I would.
Halfway to the bus stop, I realize I forgot my cellphone and go back.
I leave the house and head to the greyhound station, again.
It was a gorgeous day. While I sat on the bus, on my way to Montreal for an audition, I felt butterflies in my stomach as I realized that I'm an actor and this is part of my job. I am lucky.
The production office for Prank Patrol was only two blocks from the Voyageurs station. I went in knowing that I was suppose to improvise some sort of scene for an episode called "The Audition" where I would be a Casting Director. Easy enough, I happen to have experience in that department. I read over the sign-in sheet: Episode title "The Restaurant", character name The Rat Wrangler.
...
Uh, maybe it's a typo?
No, it's not a typo. I begin to wonder what kind of improv this will involve. I picture myself rolling around on the floor trying to catch rats. I look at the girls around me. They're all wearing flats. I look at my feet. I'm not.
...
It's finally my turn. Whatever, I'm just going to have fun. They ask me about the show. I said I'd never seen it but I looked it up and any show that involves ninjas must be a surefire hit. They liked that. We do an improv where they ask me about the Rat Wrangling business. Words fly out of my ass. Something about growing up on a farm and how moldy cheese and peanut butter are the best kind of training material. I'm having a blast. When they're done asking me questions, there's this stunned silence.
"Did you really grow up on a farm?" the girl behind the table asks.
"Uh, no," I reply.
"Wow, you really had me going there!"
We shake hands and part ways. I grab a bite to eat and head back to the bus station. I'm home by 5:45pm.
I have no idea if I got the part and I'm 75$ poorer than when I first left town. But man, if I could do that every day, I would.
Labels: The Actor
posted by Nancy Kenny at
2:26 PM
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