I am working this week on Joey, and when you have a job, it's nice to just sit back and relax for the week and stop worrying for a few days about chasing down the next paycheck. Still, auditions come so infrequently, you really can't pass up an opportunity if it fits into your schedule. And this one did.
Unfortunately.
I left right from work, and fought rush-hour traffic all the way from Burbank to mid-Wilshire. I was a little early, but ready to go so I signed in. There were about 7 or 8 people already waiting. They would audition before me. Little did I know, the next 10 people to walk in would also audition before me. The one time this year I've been early to an audition and they are going by the schedule-order instead of the sign-in order. And to top it off, when they are going by the schedule-order, and you're not even on the schedule, you end waiting around a long time for your name to be called. Such was my fate as they emptied the waiting room at the end of the auditions and I was still sitting there. They checked for my name but it was nowhere to be found. At least they let me audition.
Sort of.
I waited just outside the audition-room with the other four gentlemen reading for my part. They all went in, one after the other, and read the scene. As I approached the door to audition, to end my 80-minute stay in the building, I was told they needed a minute. I stood outside the door and listened to them discuss which person they wanted for the part. And while some might consider that a great challenge to overcome, I was too chock full of frustration at that point to be inspired. And truthfully, I was armed with too few weapons to convince a room full of producers to re-think everything because of the magical way I delivered one or two of the six lines of my audition. The lines themselves just didn't possess the potential.
So I read. My six lines. They were fine. Uninspirational, I would say. I got all the way down to my car before I realized I did not have my cell phone on me. My stay in this building was not yet complete. I went back upstairs and went to the waiting room. The good news is that I did find my phone. The bad news is that I passed two of the producers on the way in there. It was as if they had never seen me before. That, my friends, is a sign that you did not spin six lines of Charmed into television gold.
Should have stayed in Burbank.