LOCALLY WRITTEN FARCE - FEBRUARY 2015

I biked, even though there was snow and slush on the streets. So - of course - I showed up with a soggy, filthy rear end.

They were seeing actors and actresses in groups of five. I was with three dudes a little bit younger than me and a man in his 50s/60s. As we were waiting I heard him ask, “Do you do this often?”

I looked up and realized he was not asking anyone in particular, but all of us. Some Young Jerk kind of answered him with a non-committal grunt. A few minutes later he asked the room again: “Do you do this often?”

It turns out he was quite new to this acting thing. He’d been in a show recently in Skokie. But the audition for that show, he said – and I hope I misheard – was “cooled readings”.

First, we went in separately to do our individual monologues. Then they called us in as a group where we did a little bit of improv. I thought I did fairly. The older gentleman seemed a bit daunted by the things the two directors asked him to do and he stood there for a few awkward seconds trying to figure out what to do before being prompted (politely, but curtly), “Just start; don’t think about it.”

As I left I secretly hoped I wouldn’t be asked to callbacks for a bizarre reason: I wanted to cut my hair. It had gotten super bushy lately, but it hadn’t bothered me until the day of auditions.

So, of course, I got invited to callbacks.

Roughly two dozen actors and actresses showed up. After a brief introduction to all of us (who were all sitting in the black box theatre) scenes were handed out from the show. I was one of the first. In it I played a guy who narrated what he was doing like a 1940s private eye. I was immediately asked to read another scene because the actress I was going to read with had to leave early. Fine with me, and maybe I’d get to leave early, too, after reading two scenes. About a half hour passes while I sit there watching others read scenes. The director, assistant director and playwright then tell us to take five while they decided who to send home first. Five minutes later they arrive and say, “If your name isn’t called, then you can go.” The director then reads off twenty names.

There are twenty-four of us there. Wouldn’t it have just been simpler to name off the four who could go?

Anyways, I wind up reading twice more – both times it’s the private detective scene I read the first time. The first time I re-read it I am quietly bolstered by the fact that they may have already decided me for this role. The second time I am (inwardly) petulant and embarrassed, thinking, “C’mon, guys. 1. Its obvious to everyone else here and 2. I can read for other parts, too, y’know? I got mad range.”

Long story short – I got cast in that role, and, looking back in hindsight, it wouldn’t have mattered/made sense to have me read anything else. Quit yer whining, "Ryan".