Thursday, September 8, 2011

This Might Kill Me

It's official.

I've been cast in two of the shows in the Manhattan Rep One-Act Competition.


For a brief moment I considered doing both, and how frigging badass it would be if the rehearsal schedules worked out in such a way that I could do BOTH shows. I had this vision of me as this Super Actress, doing two shows at the same time, like Cynthia Nixon.

And then, inevitably, reality descended and I realized that I live in the real world. I have a job. I wait tables. And juggling ONE show with waiting tables is hard enough.

First of all, hurricane Irene closed The Restaurant for the first time in...all time, and I got screwed out of my two most lucrative shifts. So as of August 30th, the week I was doing these auditions, I was already a week behind in my rent. I would have to pick up some extra shifts just to avoid bouncing a check.

In order to do both these shows, I would have to give up half of my shifts. And "give up" is a misleading term, since they were all lunch shifts. Less money, and you have to get up early. Sometimes you have to bribe people to take them. That would leave me with only Saturday and Sunday to work, and the only day I would be able to pick up would be Monday. And Monday was not a very good day when it comes to money.

And then the other reality hit me.

I hadn't been in a show since "Work: A Play," which had been months ago.

The landlord to whom I owed rent is my father, and though he's always taken a very firm stance with me on my choice to live in poverty, would never throw me out on the street.

And finally, and most importantly...

I did not go to school to be a waitress.

I did not bust my ass for four years, and then another four out on the streets of Manhattan to smile at your dumb jokes and scurry off for another basket of bread that you're not going to eat, since you've ordered way too much food anyway. I'm not working for $5 an hour plus tips, refilling your Shirley Temple because I'm passionate about assisting people on their path to diabetic shock.

By my sweet Lord in Heaven, I am DOING THIS.

I'm doing BOTH shows. I'm working three days a week, and a double on Mondays if I can find someone to give me their Monday dinner. I'm stealing food from work, drinking water instead of buying iced tea, and sometimes I'm rehearsing for both shows in one day.

The day after my last performance of "The Mechanicals," I have to be back at the theater for the tech rehearsal of "Dust in the Wind." (And if you don't remember what a hassle tech rehearsals are, check out my entry on the tech for Work: A Play)

Today I worked a lunch shift. I needed what little money it was, and Thursday lunches are usually $100-$120 at The Restaurant. I was supposed to be at rehearsal for "The Mechanicals," but I couldn't find anyone willing to cover the shift. It was okay though, I couldn't work again until Saturday, so I could really use the $100.

But this week school starts again. No one is on vacation, and it was EXTREMELY slow. We ended up making only about $60. I came home almost in tears. I was really counting on that $100 to be able to pay my VISA bill next week.

And just when I thought this might have been a bad idea, I checked my mail, and there was the check for my background work for Girlhattan.

40 bucks for work done months ago. Bringing today's earnings to $100.

Sometimes...just sometimes, I get the feeling that someone is watching out for me.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

When you got nothin', you got nothin' to lose.

Two days after the last audition I wrote about, "Dust in the Wind," I had another audition for a fun play called, "The Mechanicals," about a group of high school students putting on a production of Midsummer Night's Dream. The director had sent me sides and it looked really funny.

Then, the evening before the audition, I got a phone call from Dorit, the writer and director of "Dust in the Wind."

I got the role!

I haven't done a show since "Work: a Play," so I was really, really excited. But I was bummed that I wouldn't get to go to the "Mechanicals" audition, so I emailed the director and explained the situation, and told him when the show would be performing. I figured even if I was no longer available, I might still be able to audition, maybe they'd like me and keep me in mind for other things. He told me to come in anyway.

I got there early, was the first one there, and had the good fortune to run into the director and the audition monitors while they were setting up, so I got to introduce myself. I sat outside the room while two other people came in for their audition slots, which were before mine, and I read over the scene.

I was reading for the girl who got cast as Hermia, checking the posted list with her best friend, who didn't get into the show, and the fight that ensued. Towards the end of the fight she's supposed to look at the list to find the name of the girl playing Helena. The stage direction was "quickly glances at the board."

But as I was standing outside the room, about to go in, I thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be funny if I couldn't find her name right away, and the fight comes to a screeching halt while I'm looking for it?"

It was risky. I would be going against a specific stage direction (the director was also the writer) and I would be bringing the momentum of the fight (which would have been building the entire time) to a complete halt. It would either be hilarious, or completely ruin my audition.

But then I realized that chances are, I can't even do this show in the first place because of the one I'm already doing. So what's the use of playing it safe if I'm not trying my best to get them to like me? I'm just going to do something funny. So I decided to stick with the pause until SOMEONE laughed.

I got into the room and I could tell my read was going well. They were chuckling at all the right places. Then I got to the pause (right before my last line) and instead of glancing at the board, I turned to the front of the room and stared blankly, moving my eyes from left to right as if reading very quickly, all to COMPLETE silence.

The briefest of "uh-ohs" entered my mind until finally, someone laughed.

Then I turned back to my scene partner and said the last line, but was completely drowned out by laughter.

I had a brief conversation with the director after my read in which we discussed my conflicts and availability. He was concerned because one of the performances for "Dust in the Wind" was the same day as one of the performances for "The Mechanicals." I explained that "Dust in the Wind" was part of the Manhattan Repertory Fall One-Act Play Competition. So the conflicting performance would only happen if the show got to the final round of the contest.

As soon as I said it was part of the Manhattan Rep Contest, he looked at me and said, "So is this."

We started talking about specific dates, and rehearsal times, and work schedules.

He sent me on my way and told me I'd know for sure by Sunday. I walked out onto the street and started laughing, pretty sure I'd just been cast in two shows at the same time.