...Scam me twice... Shame a shammer scam... shame
I started writing this over a year ago when I still worked at Starbucks, but the story is ripe enough to remember. Enjoy!
* * * * * *
Hey again from the wastelands of Hollywood!
I finished up my "Industry Showcase" in which a grand total of three industry people showed over the course of five weeks. I wasn't all that disappointed because let's face it, the show was nothing to brag about. I could pander back and forth in it's quaint qualities, like how one of my scene partners prime choice of displaying her goodies to entice an agent, or how the other scene partner who chose to give me directing notes even though he couldn't act his way out of a box, but that's all in the past.
Recently I was called by an agent to come in for a meeting. Excited I wondered if they had seen the showcase, but as it shockingly turns out the agency had heard nothing about the showcase. Actually, it was because I had responded to a Backstage West ad requesting submissions for new talent.
When I got the call I was freaking stoked! I called the number immediately and spoke to a woman.
"Would you be able to come in next Tuesday in the afternoon?"
"Absolutely. What would you like me to prepare?"
"Just a dramatic monologue would be fine."
I was a little bummed by this. I can do dramatic just fine, but making people laugh is really a strong suite.
Suddenly I hear her say "Actually you know what? Your picture looks like you could do comedy as well, why don't you just prepare one of each."
"Great! I'll see you then"
She sent me the directions and I was off!
I made a quick call to a friend for advice. She said (and wisely so) "Know who you want to model your career after.'
Easy, Kristen Wiig or Judy Greer.
'And ask what casting directors they work with. You'll know for sure if they're legit, if they know which casting directors they work closely with."
I prepared two monologues, as they requested, and waited till the minutes at work slowly crept by. I pictured their office to be small efficient hive buzzing with activity, the front area like a dentists office, and a back room that you'd have to enter through a locked door when they called your name.
I'd go to the door, assisted by the secretary, who'd have me "go right in, they're expecting you." I'd sit down in one of their cushy chairs and explain to them why I was so passionate about acting, which actresses I looked up to, the career path I had planned, and the goals I wanted to accomplish during the year.
Perhaps they'd flash me their client list, showing off, but not too much. They'd woo me, I'd sit back and consider. Slowly they'd push a contract across their chesnut desk, to which I'd say "Let me have my lawyer look this over before I make any solid commitments." I'd joke, they'd laugh, we'd shake hands, and I'd walk out with a new found confidence to embolden my walk out to the car.
It was a lovely dream. It really was.
Finally the time came for me to blow out of work and quickly wash off the sugar plastered over my forearms from the mornings rush.
Satisifed with my new smell of Dove soap and eucalyptus mint shampoo, I quickly dressed and slapped on some make up. I was beside myself with anxiety. I breathed deep, practiced my monologues, then headed out the door.
As I got into the car I began to think, "No matter what, I'll still keep doing this. There's nothing that can stop me even if this doesn't work out today." I flung a few fumbled words up in prayer then started to feel really confident, this was going to happen. Slowly I started to allow myself my little day dreams.
Maybe within the month I could quit the morning job (yeah not day job... morning) I could get some sleep, be on set, write new material for my stand up (stuff that had nothing to do with working at Starbucks). I could start plannig for "the next step." I'd have enough money saved to start studying with new acting teachers. I'd then have to decide whether or not I'd go to graduate school sooner than later, and what course I'd like to persue. Maybe I could find the fencing class I always wanted to take. I could put aside some more money to support things like Habitat For Humanity, or organizations my friends have started
All in all I could finally start my career.
Wait. Let's slow down. We still gotta get through the meeting first.
But still... It would be nice.
Yeah, it would. But you gotta be realistic.
Hrumphh.
As I drove I calmed my nerves by thinking of other things. Recent engagements, up coming family trips, anything really. It wasn't long before I was through the traffic and turning down the streets toward the office. A route that took me past a few memory lane locations. A route, that has been riddled with scams...
With each turn I became a little more suspicious. I swear every time I'm in Sherman Oaks I run into a scam. I've made it past a lot of them but some still burn from following through. It's amazing how easily people can sweet talk things over. Get you to pay for your friends tickets in advanced to sell to people. Make the cost part of the "curriculum" until you realize no one wants to go see these little "shows" this sham of school is putting on. If you know what I'm talking about, I didn't say anything, if you don't... there are plenty of scams running under the same standards.
The area was changing from office buildings, to high end apartments.
Initially I gave pause, but as usual, I ignored it.
I want so bad for this to be real
(News flash, your wanting it real bad changes nothing)
When my headshots were taken I met the photographer in her apartment building. So this wasn't a clear sign of anything fishy. Not yet.
Had the agent been a man, there was no way I would have kept driving. But the woman I spoke to was, well a woman, and seemed nice enough.
My car parks in front of this fairly nice apartment building, and I'm in my cluttered car trying to scramble all of my material together.
Whatever this turns out to be, I thought to myself, I will remain professional.
As soon as I step out of the car, in the gorgeous dress my roommates had bought me, I step on the hem. Unintentionally it slips a little, showing more of my chest than I care to have in public. I look around, and for the first time am thankful for the fact that it's a semi-secluded residential area. Pulling up the dress I wonder if the agent is peering out some window watching this whole haphazard fiasco unfold before I even get to the gate.
Breathe you goof!
I settle myself and walk towards the gate with confidence. Once I finally locate the name on the key pad, trying my darndest to not beat myself up for taking so long to find the correct name, I punch it and wait. The same woman answers and rings for the door to open.
Once inside, I realize she never gave me directions on how to get to her door...
I scramble.
Luckily I had made a note during the intial call for what the room number was. Thanking my dad in the back of my mind for constantly telling me to write things down, I made my way through the maze of doors.
It took a while to realize that her apartment was most likely on the second floor, a fact that would have been nice to tell me at first, seeing as the number gave no indication it was on another floor. But I guess that should have gone along with the information of "oh and this isn't an actual office"
The elevator climbed slowly up the one floor, because of course there were no stairs in sight, as I began to day dream again about what this apartment looked like. All the others I'd been to were plain on the outside and looked like an office on the inside. Donned with chairs, a small side table adorned with business cards, a blinking phone in the corner that indicated mutiple calls coming through and being answered by another phone in a different part of the house. Perhaps a tidy yet frazzled secretary would stop by, on the way to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
When I arrived to reality, there was a scarecrow beconing me towards the door while large mat sat beneath my feet printed with the enormous letters WELCOME.
I knocked.
Nothing.
Is this even the right address?
I knocked again looking around.
I knocked a third time when I finally heard movement. I stood at attention looking as professional and non-hunchy as I could manage.
I AM confidence.
A muffled, "Hey come on in!"came from behind the door.
Okay... it's cool. Just push the door open.
This is weird.
She just can't get the door yet, no biggie.
Who can't walk two feet to answer a door?
Would you just walk through!?
I walk in to see a very tidy apartment. Freshly vacuumed carpets, a larger than life TV, a ceiling high book shelf filled with DVDs. The woman/agent in question crossed the limited vision I had from the doorway. She seemed to redirect her path towards me as if shaking my hand were a last minute thought.
"Hello, come in"
No problem...Stepford wife?
As I walked in she ushered me to sit on the couch across from her and as I did so, she stared. Very patiently. But awkwardly as well...
"Oh! Here's my headshot and resume."
"Yes of course, this is a nice shot."
"Thank you"
"Okay are you ready?"
"Ready?"
Just then I started hearing yapping... from the kitchen.
Sure.
"Oh I'm so sorry that's my dog. She gets excited when new people come in"
The agent woman moved towards the kitchen.
"Katie!"
I turned in her direction
"KATIE!!"
"Uh... yes?" I asked timidly
"Oh sorry, not you."
She started scolding the tiny dog that was sanctioned behind her kitchen counter. Apparently this little overactive pup and I share the same name.
Do you change the name for all your perspective clients?
I was beginning to beg God why I could never walk into a normal situation in my life when the agent-lady pushed the dog out of the kitchen where it bounded right up to me. It yapped and started jumping repeatedly up and down on my leg. This only added to my suspicion that the dog was actually named Katie.
You're a very confused girl aren't you? Get off my leg!
Agent-lady finally coaxed her outside onto a 2x5 balcony. Sliding the glass door shut, Katie the dog jumped up and down yapping even louder.
"Don't worry about her" agent-lady explained, as she locked the glass door "she usually stops once she's outside"
She started settling in.
Yap. BANG! Yap BANG!
"KATIE STOP!!" She got up and flipped the vertical shutters closed, then sat back down on the couch.
Uncomfortable I adjusted my dress and made sure my girls were still under wraps. Didn't want any more surprise guest appearances.
"So," I said as she looked over my resume quietly, "I prepared the two monologues you asked for."
"Oh."
Oh?! Oh, What?
"Remember you called me and asked if I could prepare two monologues? You said my headshot looked like I could pull off comedy fairly well"
She shifted my resume to look at my headshot, the one she so lovingly commented on not but five minutes ago.
"Yes that's right. Good, yes. Go ahead."
So I did.
I decided to go with comedy first. It's my strong suite and I wanted her to be hooked from the get go.
I picked a compilation of Kristen Chenoweth lines from Pushing Daisies.
Well, I thought it was funny.
Agent woman waited until I paused to indicate my ending of the monologue to finally laugh.
You're listening skills are top notch aren't they?
I'm sorry, but I do not accept laughter in the form of pity. If I'm not funny, don't laugh. Especially if you're gonna half-ass the laugh, that's just insulting.
Agent-lady said nothing and kept staring so I went straight into the dramatic. It wasn't that long, an intense confessional-type monologue about a girl talking to a bff or parental figure explaining some traumatic nonsense, you know the typical dramatic shtick.
I could tell agent-lady was tuning out and just waiting for me to end. That annoyed me. My monologue wasn't long by any means, a minute tops! And I'd like to refrain from even entertaining the thought that I was so awful she couldn't sit through 30 seconds of my emoting. This visit was getting weirder by the minute, and it just screamed fishy. So to spite her... I started improvising.
"...And then he turned to me with that look. And in my mind I shouted SCAM This is a SCAM! He's trying to fool me! I have to get out of here. None of this is real!"
I embued those few lines with everything I was feeling in the moment and all the hatred I had for sensing this being yet another scam in Sherman Oaks.
She shifted her weight ever so slightly as I finished.
I think I threw her. Just a little.
I'm sorry, too close to home for yah?
"Very well done."
"Thank you."
"I can tell you're a good actor by how quickly you transitioned from comedic to your sad monologue."
Seriously? My 'Sad Monologue'? And I had no choice with you staring at me!
"Thank you very much"
"So do you have any questions for me?"
Yep! Just a few! How about who are you? Who do you work for? What are you trying to pull on me so I can just report you to SAG and get the hell out?
Instead I settled for, "What casting directors do you work with?"
"Quite a few! I was in the acting side of the business a while ago so I've made a lot of relationships."
"That's great! So which ones?" I smiled, knowing I had hit my first red flag
"Oh I can't remember right now"
Uh huh. You must be really good friends.
"Well, that's too bad. What agency did you say you worked for?"
"I've been with them for a while now. I used to be on the acting side like I said, did a few TV shows and spots. Then I started with..." She handed me a card that said her name on it and Karen Cole Talent Agency. "...from there I've been seeking new talent"
"Your agency is located..."
"In an office not to far from here"
Then why am I in you're apartment??
"Then why are we-"
"So you do improv?"
"Yes I do, but"
"Oh more questions?"
"Uh, yes. How does your agency work exactly?"
"We submit actors to casting agents..."
I know how an agency works. How do you work!?
'...and book them auditions through actors access, which you have already right?"
"Yeah, so you submit people through actors access? How's that different from what I do now?"
"You've trained with the Groundlings?"
She's trying to distract me now. And it totally works. I talk about what Ive been doing lately. The showcase I'm in, the short films I'm either working on or have done. I completely forget she hasn't answered my question yet.
And she never will.
It's tricky, when she starts to throw flattering words out. I realize she's sweet talking me and I snap back to reality.
"I'm sorry I suppose I'm still not clear on how this is run"
She's annoyed by this. From her point of view I could understand annoyance if I was asking "How do you push buttons to send an email?" But I'm not!
"We, know agents and have better connections so we'll see breakdowns before you do. We submit you for things. You go on auditions."
I drop the subject because I've clearly hit a chord with agent-lady that she doesn't want to be asked about again.
I only say that because she's glaring at me now.
There's another painful pause as she looks at my resume. The silence grew to a point where Katie, the dog, decided it was time for her input.
Then, "Do you still know some martial arts?"
YAP yap!
"Yes, actually"
yap YAP yap!
"And you roller blade"
YAPPITY YAP YAP!
"Got em in my car."
YAAPP YAP YAP YAP
"Alright well it was nice to meet you."
"Yeah. Thanks"
I rush out the door and far away from agent-lady and her dog potentially named Katie. I called everyone I knew to try to legitimize this woman. Not a soul had heard of her and she wasn't SAG franchised (a big red flag). So needless to say it was a waste, but I never signed anything nor was I contacted by them again.
Thankfully.
Hindsight makes me wish I had improvised a little more in that dramatic scene, maybe thrown in some Mackers "Red Spot" action to shake things up and draw it out longer than that grueling minute was. But alas, what's done is done.
In the end, I hope I wasted her time as much as she wasted mine.
Still smiling a whole year later,
~The Goof
No comments:
Post a Comment