So I go the audition below just for the sheer thrill of it all because it's taking place in a Restaurant in Van Nuys, which is just sketch, sketch, sketchy, but I thought, oh, why not.
I did my hair, added wings to my liquid eyeliner; I was rockabillied out! Fetching, one might say.
I get to the place, find the banquet anteroom and see the banquet room's door is slightly ajar. I creep up, because I'm sure someone's reading for the director, and wouldn't I just look the fool throwing them open announcing "I'm Here! Oh! And an asshole! Sorry!" So I creep up and watch. I see the director, the little guy next to him, and then I see the girl reading. Her hair is curled. Figures. Oh well. I try to eavesdrop but she's too quiet, so I sit on a chair and wait my turn.
When she leaves, the director comes out and sees me, and then says my name! Without having a list, or my headshot, so yay for that! I felt kinda famous, but really, I just felt happy that I still look like my headshots and that he recognized me from the one I had submitted to him.
I read.
It's always nice to have the casting director nod their head while you read. That's always a good sign. It's an even better sign to have them say, "would you mind reading these other pages?" It's a better sign, yup, but I read the entire script once and only studied my sides. He didn't ask me if I wanted some time with them. Note to self: ASK NEXT TIME. But I looked them over as quickly as I could (stupid. I should've ASKED FOR MORE TIME) and read them, trying to sound natural. It's all I could do.
They thanked me, and I left feeling pretty good. The role requires a boob to be popped out during the film and if I don't have to deal with that, then I'm still fine and still okay. Although I've been told they're perfect (the left one is bigger! shh!!) they really should just stay in my bra, you know?
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