January 20, 2000
Allison Jones called last night to check and see if I would audition for this goofy guest-star role of a man who thinks he's really a superhero. It sounded like fun. Once I got the sides sent over to me, it still seemed fun, but it also felt like I was completely wrong for it. The guy who thinks he's superhero should be short and fat and balding and dumpy. Don't you think? I mean maybe not. Maybe that's more cliche, but it certainly seems funnier to me.
The other gentlemen who showed up to audition for the role were different than me. None was as I had envisioned the role. There was a 40ish balding man (the best choice of the four) and then two scruffy tough guys about my age. I was the only "Bruce Wayne" East Coast type.
As I was reading the scenes with them, though, I really thought it was going quite well. Little by little I convinced myself that I was going to get this job. They laughed at a lot of my little beats and I could feel some funny facial expressions going on. Then my big closer that I thought would get a nice laugh somehow turned out to be two laughs. I had 'em. I owned this job. It was mine mine mine.
But sadly, the work day is ending and no call has come in. It was one
of those things where they probably called the guy who got it right
away. So even though I left the audition beaming, by the time I
returned home after running a few errands I knew it was not to be. I
am not... THE HAWK.
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