Religion, Auditions, & Margaritas

Oh, and remind me to never audition for AI again.

This may be a roundabout way of explaining this whole adventure, but I’m writing all this for you to realize the perfect storm that accumulated to Monday night's audition. A lot went down, so stick it out with me!

Alright so I’ll be honest, I’m semi-participating in Ramadan. It all started when one of the agents I intern for told me about his practice on Friday. I’m such a self-centered Christian that I’d completely missed that Ramadan was even going on.
When I was in Kazakhstan we learned about the Muslim faith, and Ramadan was one of the traditions I balked at.

A whole month? Without food during the day?? What are you supposed to do instead?!
Pray, dummy.
Oh right.

This also reminded me of a conversation I had Imam at a mosque while I was there
“So what do you pray for?”
“I’m sorry I don’t understand what you mean”
His English was great, but he wasn’t getting what I asked. One of our guides explained in Russian and then the Imam’s face lit up when he looked at me.

“We do not pray for anything. We do not believe that God takes requests, like your Santa Claus. We pray to be better servants. We give thanks for our lives. We seek to be more peaceful, and healthier men”

Immediately I realized my semantic mistake. But what he said made sense. I know as Christians we all say things like “God is Santa, he doesn’t have a wish list” but we still pray to him don’t we? We say things like “Please oh please God let me pass this test!” In this way we make God our good luck charm and wait to see if He decides to follow through.
I’ve prayed a lot of “forgive me” prayers after that day.

In the Muslim faith, from what I glean, there is a works based theology. Good works makes you a bit more holy. They’re prayers are like hymns or the doxology are to a Christian. They’re traditional, and often repeated.
I’m not one for works based theology, but I do see the draw. Especially when I’m a fairly guilty minded person because I haven’t been to church in about…three months? Maybe longer? Eek I don’t even know!

Continuing my religious tangent: I came into my internship last Friday to find half the office was fasting. I knew that our theatrical agent was Muslim, and that our commercial agent was Christian. (It came up at some point in conversation) The Christian commercial agent came in complaining about being hungry and how she was low on energy.
“Eat a sandwich” one of my favorite solutions to a problem.
“I can’t I’m fasting with Karim today”

I looked at Karim who confirmed and began to explain, “This month is Ramadan. In my faith we call it the month of blessings because we believe that for this month God locks up the devil.”
The carrot in my mouth slowly started slipping out

“We wake up before the sun rises, eat a little, and offer up prayers. We don’t eat food, or drink water from sunrise till sunset every day.”
“What about gum?” I asked.
“No gum, no nothing. We use it as a time to ask God for specific blessings, and show our commitment by abstaining from food or other wants.”
It explained why they were listening to “The Wave” as opposed to their typical rap station. Ramadan was more of a refocusing time for Muslims, than a present giving and getting holiday we celebrate as Christians. I suppose our materialistic society has made Christianity more appealing in this way. He explained that it was a way to purify mind as well as spirit from evil thoughts or intentions throughout the day.

“And you see blessing everywhere. Just last night I got a booking for one of our clients who didn’t even audition! Blessings! Blessings everywhere.”
It was at that point that I put down my bag of carrots and regretted the two egg mushroom and red bell pepper omelet I made and ate that morning. For the rest of the day I prayed forgiveness and sent prayers of solidarity. Throughout the day three more clients booked gigs without having auditions. A first, at least since I started four or five months ago.
 Each time they did Karim’s face would light up, he’d clap, and say “I told you! Blessings! Blessings!”

Each time this happened I’d be renewed with will to participate. From 11AM until 6PM I neither ate nor drank anything. The eating wasn’t so bad but going without water was rough. Everyone had been prepared for the day, they had eaten big meals before sunrise and brought along little kits to brush their teeth and “scope” their mouth. I on the other hand had some rank breath and a dry tongue by the time I left.

Sunset wasn’t going to happen till around 7:50 Cali time and I was mentally unprepared for the lack of food or beverage. Over all I was doing fine, but my fat soul was pretty grumpy by the turn of events. Since I had already made plans to have dinner before a show around 6 I prayed again that God would forgive me for flippantly breaking my solidarity. All I had that night was a turkey burger and a few fries with water, but boy was I full! I suppose my stomach shrank because of the fast.

The rest of the night I couldn’t help but think of how a little amount of food could be so filling for so long. I went to a friend’s house later that night where there was some drinking and games. I quickly became bored and kept thinking,
This is what we Americans do for fun. We get bored, and drink.
I ended up being a pretty big buzz kill, and decided I better just head out.

That Saturday I went the whole day without eating or drinking water. Praying at a few intervals. I was surprised by how easy it was. It kept me focus on the things I had to do for the day, and every time I felt shaky I tried to refocus my thoughts on anything but a giant Costco pizza. I had an audition around 7 that night and knew that by the time I was done I could make a meal. I was determined to follow through.

The audition was not too out of the ordinary. I mean the producer did have her dog on a pillow next to her and her face was wrapped, assumingly, after a facial operation. But in the end the producer called me “A doll!” and said that they’d love to have me. I quickly adopted Karim's mantra and got up saying “Blessings!” as I shook the producer's hand.

When I got home I ate nearly all of my groceries, and a piece of my roommates’ homemade brownies and a slice of their left over Costco pizza.
 I told you my soul was fat, right?

When Sunday rolled around I figured it’d be best to maintain my Christianity and ate a healthy breakfast before I went off to church. Yeah, I went to church. Some people even remembered seeing me once upon a time; even though they couldn't remember my name I still took it as a good sign.
Sunday’s are almost impossible to fast on because I usually visit my sister, and there’s no way you can fast when you’re at her place.
 We had roasted veggies (some that were homegrown) and cheese stuffed squash blossoms and veggie hot dogs. Afterwards we went out and ate some delightful handmade ice cream. Mine was Guinness flavored.

I’m telling you, there’s no way you can fast when my sister is cookin

Now it’s Monday, and I decided to adhere to Ramadan once again. In trying to focus on how to be a better person I decide to get back into exercising again. I borrow my roommates five pound weights and go for a jog around the neighborhood. It’s not much, but sans a good breakfast and water it took its toll on me.

I go the whole day without drinking a drop of water, but as soon as I get to the reception desk my tongue is like sandpaper. And after that work out I’m really dehydrated. I figure answering a phone with a cough is not the most professional action, especially when it’s a busy Monday and the phones are ringing off the hook. I pray God forgives me that I have a few sips of water. In turn I promised to not be so attached to my social media sites today, and abstain from Facebook and Twitter. It’s not really a coherent trade, and sort of inane when I think about it now, but it made sense at the time.

I stayed strong the whole day and those few sips of water made the world of difference.

It was now 5 o’clock and I had another audition to get to. This one was just a student film, a scene from Thelma and Louise, but it was an audition nonetheless. I had been to the Art Institute once before and remembered I had to pay for parking. Seeing as I was driving all the way to Santa Monica there was no way I was going to pay for parking this time. Any way I can save, I’ll do it.

I had to park about three blocks away in a two hour parking space, but I knew the walk would be worth it. Besides, its exercise right?
My appointment was at 6:30 but I had gotten there at 5:45, so I had some time to hobble to the audition because my legs were still sore from my morning run. I got a little lost among the buildings and found myself facing a big sign that said AcTivision.
 If you’re a nerd you may recognize the company as one of the top gaming production companies that put out one of my favorites, GoldenEye Wii. It was pretty great, and it took everything in me not to sneak in.

I finally found the AI building, which was ironically paired with a culinary institute that cruelly wafted their fresh baked goodies into my nose. It was now 5:55 and sunset wasn't until at least 7:50.
No problem
I signed in, and made my way upstairs. As soon as I hit my intended floor I was thrown back by a barrage of sounds. I hoped beyond hope that these sounds weren’t coming from where I would soon be auditioning, but alas my luck is always against me in these stories.

I turned the corner to see a hallway literally wall to wall with people, and also children. Children ranging from the age 3 months to 6 years. The place was crawling with them.

Don’t get me wrong I love kids, but they have their place when it comes to auditions. Kids at auditions aren’t kids, they’re brats. Who are followed by their either overprotective stage moms/dads or their money grubbing trolls that might be related to them.

I squeeze my way past to see the sign in sheet is riddled with names. I scrawl mine next to the number 17, thinking That’s not too bad until I see the second sheet numbered 1-30 that is full of names and only a third are crossed off. My heart sinks, my parking is only for two hours, how can they have so many people? And, wait. Why are there kids here? There’s no kids in Thelma and Louise.

I began to look around for sides to see what was going on, when another actress came up behind me to sign in.
“Are there any sides?”
“No,” I tell her, “I was just looking for those. I’m sure they’ll bring some out.”
“Which one are you here for” One of the other auditioning actresses smooshed up against the wall ask with a weary look of having waited too long.
“Thelma and Louise, I think. Is there another audition?”
“Cheerios, they don’t have sides. But they’re auditioning them in the same room.”

A double audition?? What are they thinking!?
Students. Rookie mistake.
Not even students make that mistake

I look in the window of other classes, I have no choice as I’m slammed by a new wave of auditioners. Inside the other rooms I see a bunch of twenty somethings sitting in chairs nodding along to some instruction. Had it not been for the duct tapped filing box fashioned into a podium, I never would have been able to determine who the “professor” was. Everyone looked roughly the same age, and if this was indeed the professor he had neck tattoos, gage piercings, and a shirt that said “The Laughing Dead”

I laughed thinking about Dr. Tracie, and old prof, showing up in this get up.
I’ve had a privileged education

I sat against the wall just as the girl who signed in after me took up a strip of carpet next to me. She became one of those annoying types at auditions. The ones that gloat about whatever they can and complain as much as possible. Disturber of the peace, really.

“I was on set the other day for a webseries I wrote, produced, and am starring in…” Other actors were kind enough to lend her an ear as I tried to politely ignore her. When people talk this much I just imagine them like a muppet who faces the sky and of their head hangs back with a prolonged "BLAHHHHH"
This is what chatty people look like in my mind, only not as fun and lovable as a muppet.

It was approaching 6:30, the time of my actual appointment, when Chatty Mcgee over here started demanding she see some sides. I couldn’t ignore her now because I was getting a little curious myself.

I asked someone nearby if I could take a look at their sides, and she kindly handed them over.
“I just need them back because I think I’m going in soon”
Sure you are I thought.
"Oh totally," I said.
 I’d been here a half hour and barely seen anyone go in or out. I highly doubted she was going anywhere soon.

I looked at the sides and recognized the scene.
“This is the one right after they shoot the guy right?” I ask

“I’m not sure, it’s been a while since I’ve seen it” she replies.

“This was a movie already?” Chatty pipes in

Welcome to the conversation tiger.

“Are there accents?” someone asks.

A phony cockney voice pipes up “Oh I wooldn’ mind if they haid ous do vat!”

Chatty, you should stop while you’re ahead

“Actually,” I say out loud, “It’s more country.” My dehydrated brain couldn’t think of the word ‘Southern’ but they got the gist of what I meant.
Chatty, switched gears on us and provided her best southern bell. This is why actors should never be placed in a waiting room with other actors for an extended period of time.

“Well, I do declare I think I can manage a certain type of countray”
You know these Thelma and Louise drive off a cliff right? You can practice that if you want

Chatty then starts reading, out loud, over my shoulder. Exasperated I just hand her the sides and let her mutter to herself. At least she’s not talking to the rest of us.

Just then the monitor comes out and calls for a “Oh, I’m not going to say this right…Mar-gar-eet?”

Chatty perks up, “Margarita?”
Amen sister, I could go for one of those right now too.

The monitor looks down at the list, “Uh, no. Mar-gar- ett?”

The girl who gave me the sides sat up, “I’ll need those back, thanks.” Chatty reluctantly hands over the sides and slumps against the wall. Margaret goes in and Chatty starts back up again.
“It’s interesting isn’t it?”
I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care.
She lets the question hang there, and decides to answer it despite our lack of interest.
“That our names are so similar! I thought she was calling me in to audition.”

Slowly it dawns on me. The lack of food has taken its toll on my mental process and I didn’t realize what I should have off the bat. My eye scans down to her folder where her headshots lie for the world to ask her who did them. In bold letters right under her beaming face is the name Margarita.

NO!

I look up at her, and back at the headshot. It’s the same girl.

Your parents named you Margarita?!? Is that the drink they had when you were conceived?! Or when you were born!?

The thought entertained me for the next half hour as we watched child and adult alike go in and out of the room. It seemed like eternity when it hit 7 o’clock, and I was getting worried about my parking. The tension in the packed hallway started to climb as even more people came to audition. The minutes ticked by as the slow bottle necking of people passed through. My hunger was starting to nag me, and I would have done anything for a sip of water. I could feel my eyes sinking into deep cavities as my body shriveled. I was weak, and I'd never be able to make it into the room. My legs had atrophied from sitting so long without food. I was going to die here.

When Chatty Margarita suddenly had had enough.

Okay maybe my body wasn’t wrecked as I just painted, but I was tired and frustrated, and thirsty as hell. But, Chatty was the first to break. When the monitor came out to apologize for the wait, Chatty swooped in.

“I really have to go soon, I was wondering if I could just skootch up in the list?”
Oh hellll no. You came right after me! And so help me if I get a ticket from this stupid audition.

I glanced up at a clock I could see through a classroom window, it was now 7:30.

The monitor said they’d do the best they could.
No kick her out! 


All of the kids started getting restless at the same time, and seemed to get louder and rowdier. One girl took great joy in puncturing the relative silence with a loud round of Angry Birds. I’m a big fan of flinging birds at those unruly pigs, but let’s be honest, that music is beyond repetitive after three minutes and don’t get me started on the bird screams.
 Another little tyke took to hitting her little brother as he tried to choke her, while a baby was walked between all the adults crying for her binki. Yet another walked between everyone taking pictures with her mom’s phone, when mommy received a call she hung up on them and said, “It’s okay I got the camera back!” The choking brother now turned on his mother because her iPad was no longer working for him, “It’s not working any moreeeee!” He hit the iPad and then his mother. No reprimands were issued.

I was nearing my wits end. When the monitor made yet another entrance, and apology.

“Again, I’m sorry for the wait we didn’t realize so many people would show up. Next on the list is Hailey”

YES! Hailey was number 15 on my list, and that meant I was only two screaming children away from getting in and driving down the 405 home! Huzzah!

“Excuse me,”


Chatty don’t you ruin this for me!

“I was wondering if I could just sneak in because I really have to go!”


Don’t be stupid student. Don’t you dare put her before me!

“I’m sorry we can’t.” YES! BOO YAH CHATTY! “We have to at least get all the kids in first because they need to go soon.”
Record scratch.


I do but beg your pardon?

“Alright well just give them my headshot, because I really have somewhere to go"
As opposed to the rest of us who have nowhere in life to go?

She hands her headshot to the monitor who slips back in before I can protest.
I look up at the clock again, 7:55. I might get a ticket, or worse, towed. My heart is pounding and I’m exhausted. Three sets of kids go in the room before I get the chance to stop the monitor.

I consider pulling a Chatty Margarita and forgetting the whole thing. But I’ve waited 2 hours, and having to drive all the way back home would make me reel with regret. I stick it out and now it’s 8:10 when I finally get the monitors attention.
"Hey, I'm kind of confused because I thought I was next on the list"
A flash of annoyance goes across his face. Woah, I get it but your not respecting my time.
He looks down and sees that I was in fact next until they decided to take all the kids at once.
Just my luck
"I totally get it, but I'm in a weird parking situation and I really don't want to get towed."
Maybe it was the desperation of thirst hunger and boredom that acclimated in my voice, or just the sheer fear of paying hundreds of dollars to get my car back, either way it took. The monitor had pity on me and said he'd speed things up to get me out.

After two more totes are pimped out they finally bring me in.
They apologized, yet again.
Dude I get it. Be professional already and pretend you meant it to be this way.
I kept the conversation light and joked with them. The read through went well, a few minor errors, but nothing they seem to notice. They look down at my headshot and say “Oh wow, you have a lot of experience.”

Oh, honey. Read me five things off of there that you’ve actually heard of. Come now, school plays and some comedy shows does not a credit make.

“Oh that’s all made up.”

For a split second they take me seriously.

“I’m joking,” I assure them. They ease up, we thank each other, shake hands, and then I bolt out the door.

Please God please God please God, don’t let me get towed

I run as fast as I can, but I’m slower than normal as it’s been more than 24 hours since I’ve eaten anything, and those five sips of water aren’t doing me much good either. By the time I reached my car, panting and heaving, I realize the sign above it says “2 hours: Until 6PM M-F”

So I was in the clear this entire time?
Yep
Son OF A-

I drove home thanking God anyway for having a good audition and still not getting towed. The 405 was a pain, as always, but at least I didn’t have to listen to anyone talking their head off and trying to impress everyone with their awful accents.

When I finally got home neither of my roommates were there, unfortunately that meant I had no one to bitch to. Instead I headed straight for the kitchen and made myself a big meal complete with a giant cup of water that I kept draining.
I had refilled my glass about five times before my roommates finally came to the door.
"Did you see your lovely picture?
"I'm sorry, what?" I say through half a mouthful of brie/cheddar/bean/mushroom/bell pepper quesadilla with the side of green beans and irish car bomb cupcake.
"Have you seen your Facebook page?"
I remembered my compromise of social media for a few sips of water.
"No I haven't been on Facebook or Twitter all day"

Apparently I had recently signed into my Facebook on my roommates computer.... and not signed out. In doing so it lay the ground work for my roommates to post a picture of five very obese men with the caption: "I love men that look like this! mmm mmm good :D"A stream of comments followed underneath it.
It was pretty hysterical. A nice way for everything to circle back in the end.

Keep laughing dear friends
~The Goof