February 4, 1992
I still am not sure what I was there for, but from 1:30 to 4 I sat at Moro Landis Dance Studio doing very little else.
The adventure began two nights ago, Sunday, when I called my service before going to bed. A message left earlier in the evening was from the assistant director saying that I should call him. Although it was around midnight, I didn't want to miss anything scheduled for the next day, so I called.
Once I got the a.d. on the phone, I asked what he wanted. He chuckled in disbelief (that I had called so late, I guess) and said I was an alternate, and to attend the rehearsal on Tuesday. I asked how many alternates there were, and he mumbled a grunt or two and said he didn't know, maybe 2.
Before departing this morning, I checked my messages to find the a.d. calling to tell me to bring a few changes of sporty clothes to today's audition. "What? Could the part still be uncast?" I pondered.
Ignoring the "clothes-line," not being a sporty dresser to begin with, I hustled over to Moro Landis only to be confronted by a total of 6 men and 3 women present for today's "audersal" or "rehition" or whatever was going on.
Apparently, Christine and a guy named Ken were definitely the first-string, but no one told us that, so as Christine and Ken read and rehearsed, the director continued to pair people up and have them read the script, in a sense rehearsing, but it seemed like they were still auditioning.
Besides the first-string, there were two other couples, and then three guys left over. As 3 p.m. approached, an hour-and-a-half of waiting was interrupted only by Mark's disclosure that none of our partners had shown up. But still we sat there. By 3:30, Mark called the three of us in together and repeated his tragic message: Since our partners hadn't shown up, we were apparently useless single men. There would be no reading of the script for us that day.
Mark's consolation prize, or more accurately, his parting gift to us was an offer to produce our own segments on the show. This would involve researching something going on in the entertainment world and then putting together a story on it. This was not an appealing concept to me, nor to the other two singles, who heartily vocalized their busy schedules and many auditions, and that they would be able to jump in and be on the show, but just wouldn't be able to create a segment from scratch. This summed up my feelings as well, plus I think all three of us felt used and abused that we had been made to sit there for 2 hours only to be told we weren't needed.
I passed on my option to aggressively voice any of this sentiment and simply nodded in agreement with my co-hosts. So, that was it for us and he showed us to the door. BUT, en route stopped me with a "John, could you wait so I could talk to you a second?" Now what?
So I waited as the other two guys left. Then, Mark told me to come into the other room. So, I followed him. I followed him out the door and to the left where he looked around for a few seconds. I stood silent. He proceeded back to the right down the hall. I followed patiently. He entered the studio where the dancers were waiting, and began setting up the room. I remained a step behind the whole time, but was not told what my presence was for. Finally, I spoke, "What did you want me for?"
He continued to mill about the room, talking in choppy phrases, while I, like some lost puppy, kept turning, and taking hesitant steps in all directions trying to create some sort of conversational atmosphere. Finally, he came to rest near a window and confided in me, "You know, you were my number two choice. It's too bad your partner didn't show up. You guys were the first alternates. Those two guys I didn't like. They were too pushy." And with that, his meandering began anew. I chimed in, "Well, do you need me for anything today?" And he said, "Not really, but you can stay, and see how we do the show." It seemed if I wanted to be considered in the future, the polite thing to do would be to stay & watch. So I stayed and watched. The guy (Ken) was a goof. Tough to lose to him. The comedy skit was bad. The dancing looked fine. The script was stiff and pointless at times. Good stuff.
They finished and I approached Mark. "I'm gonna take off. It looks good," I offered. "Yeah, you can go whenever you want," he returned, sounding almost annoyed that I had stayed to hassle him. Retaining my placating manner, I replied, "Alright, well, let me know if you need me for anything. Take care."
And I escaped.
Go back to the Audition.