n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



June 23, 2003 - 12:55 pm

Aspirant

The other day, I noticed that someone had added me as a favorite with the comment "An aspiring actor in California."

I was momentarily taken aback. I've barely even begun thinking of myself that way. And then, there it was, right here in 12 point on my screen. I am in California, in Los Angeles, and I would like to be paid for performing.

It's a strange reality check moment when someone encapsulates your life in a single sentence.

And last night, I lived up to that statement by having the Big Fat Important Audition For Which I Put Off My Trip To Chicago.

When I initially wrote about that audition, I was ignoring a rule I devised many years ago: Don't tell anyone that you have an audition.

I learned this valuable lesson in high school, shortly after I got my first set of headshots. It was bad enough having everyone know that you're an actor. This was unavoidable, though, since my high school allowed majors, and I was an acting major. This is when I learned that my fellow students and even some teachers liked to whip out the oh-so-clever "You're an actor...act like you want to read the english text aloud/write the equation on the board/take me to the prom/dance for us, monkey boy."

Yeah, so: Not fun. Imagine the everyday pain and angst of adolesence we all experienced, and then toss in everyone you know asking you for weeks and weeks whether or not you got that role in 'Swing Kids.'

For the last time: I did not.

When I finally landed my first commercial, I did get to be Pimp Supreme for one lunch period my senior year. It was for Ameritech, the phone company in Chicago. Oh, how I bragged. I was getting paid union scale, which I believe was around $675 for eight hours at that time. The shoot went over, which meant that I was getting scale and a half. Then there were the residuals. Not only was I going to be on television, but I was going to be one (relatively) rich high schooler, and I wasn't shy about letting people know it.

Then my bastard friend Dess reminded me that I promised I would buy my little circle of friends lunch when I got my first gig. We went to Potbelly's Subs, and for $25 worth of sandwiches and a fifty minute lunch period, I was the working actor happily handing out toasted turkey provolones and bags of chips. Oh yeah.

Immediately afterward, we all went back to systematically destroying each other's self esteem.

Ah, highschool.

So, last night. To boil it down, we can go through a handy checklist: Did I do anything embarassing or fuck up any scenes? Nope. Did I do some good stuff? I think so, and everyone else did too. So, did I do anything to make myself stand out? Well, we were working off of the suggestion 'Barbados,' and when we did a group game, in which we all do a scene together, I created a scene in which I was co-host for "VH1's Spring Break."

At VH1's spring break, loads of forty-somethings inexplicably crash the college festivities and behave inappropriately for their age. I did well as one of the hosts, and the people I auditioned with gave great support. At one point, a guy gave a shout out to his daughters with "My name is Dan! I'm from Reseda! I just want to say hi to my twins! Daddy'll be home soon, girls!" Then I had two people participate in a dance competition for contestants that "have had recent surgeries." I played it straight, acting somewhat ashamed to be there, and my co-host Brian, who is just great, awkwardly used too much slang for a 46 year old man, prompting me to tell him "Good God, man, stop talking that way. You have a sixteen year old son." Another player came out and became the son, and the two had a confrontation, during which Brian reverted to his normal voice and told his son to "go wait in the car."

All in all, it seemed to go well. It was a great group of people. There were laughs from those running the audition. Good stuff.

And now: The waiting. The overanalyzing and obsessing over every moment of the audition, helped along by a near perfect recall of the entire half hour. Watching that goddamn phone, with no idea if they'll call today or days from now.

I'm an aspiring actor in California.

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