I arrive early, sign in, fill out the questionnaire and wait my turn.
I'm led to the room and meet the company's CEO. Lovely lady. She asks me a few basic questions (where you from, etc.) and I shine my personality like it's a new pair of patent leather shoes.
"Do you have a monologue?"
You are ALWAYS supposed to have a monologue in your back pocket. Two of them actually. Well, shit balls. I had thought the other day that I should pull one out and reacquaint myself, but I thought, oh, nah. If they wanted to have me do a monologue, they would've asked me to prepare one in the posting.
This is Duh Actor 101. Always be prepared because you look awesome if they ask you and you have it. And that goes for everything. From monologues, to a headshot/resume/reel in your car. Or smartphone.
aaaanyways. I apologize, saying it's been so long since I'd been asked to do a monologue. Manager lady says no problem, opens her file cabinet and produces a scene from Days of Our Lives. I am to read Zoe, 17.
Seventeen! Eff yeah! Earlier, when she had referred to the sheet I had to fill out listing my age, she verified that I hadn't misprinted it. I replied that the last role I had booked was for a 22 year old. I don't tan or smoke, people! If you want to maintain a youthful appearance, I suggest you do the same.
And yes, I know she's just pulling me sides to pull me sides, but I still felt awesome that she pulled them for a 17 year old.
Here's another Duh Actor 101: VERIFY what you're reading. I should've said, "Oh, did you want me to do this character's monologue, or the entire sides? But I didn't. (Duh.) I only prepare the monologue in the sides. (Double Duh. Why am I so dumb?) When I go back into the room to read for her, I see that she's ready to read with me on the first page, and the monologue is on the second one.
"Are you reading with me?" I asked. "How else would we get through it?" I should mention this woman is extremely nice. I reply, "Oh! I'm sorry! I thought you meant for me to just do the monologue on the second page. Okay!"
I read with her. I am a bit nervous because of how silly I feel. This is shit I should know how to do. Seriously. And seriously, Lira, ask a freakin question if you're not sure! UGH!
"Stop. You're over acting."
"Do it again."
Thank you! I take a quick second, say to myself, this is for a soap opera! soap operas are very serious! The scene was funny. The character was funny. I had to bring her down instead of up.
I finish the scene.
"You're very good."
We talk about hair. She loves my hair color! She loves my hair! She loves my headshot!
"I like you. I love your personality. But I don't know what to do with you yet." She's not saying it like I'm a lost cause. She's saying it like I'm a challenge she's going to win. She's thinking.
She looks at my other headshots ( I DID remember to bring those!) and picks out her favorite. This one.
"You are your hair. There is no one else out there who looks like you. You're quirky and fun and I need to see more picture of you like that." I agree.
"I need to see 15 more pictures of you like this, and I want a monologue that shows off your quirky, kooky personality."
Okay! Considering one of her clients was recently nominated for an Oscar, I'm going to do my damndest to give her what she wants. And bless her for being so upfront and honest. I AM my hair! Cute and fun with a little bit of