Remember how/you may not know that "Singin' in the Rain" was Debbie Reynolds' first really big movie? Remember the stories of how she practiced the dance routines so much her feet bled?
I'm afraid that may be what's happening to me. Only it's my hands. Because of the ukulele.
I'm halfway afraid my hands are going to end up like the monitor for the recent Shakespeare audition I went to.
They had rented out the space and would be there promptly at 6:30. Naturally, I was a tad early. There was a homeless man waiting at the door.
A few minutes later, the director came up and opened the door to let us all in. The homeless man came in with us.
He struck up conversations with the female actors, talking about his virile father who begat seventeen children.
It took me a little while--but only a very little while--to realize the homeless man, with his grizzled beard, toothless grin, knit hat, and tattered coat, was running the audition.
But there's something else our friend had. Or, rather, DIDN'T have.
Fingers.
I know what you're thinking.
"But Fork, you only have nine toenails. You should get along with this guy just fine!"
I asked him if he had the sides for the scene we were going to be reading as I had forgotten to print them out and bring them with me. He said he'd check. He never did. Instead, he focused his attention on forcing everyone who left to shake hands with him.
At one point, he used his knubs to open a little snack pack of Little Debbie chocolate rolls.
My turn came. I went in, got the sides from the director, and read. I gave a good reading, but decided that this was probably not going to be the theatre company for me.
The director asked me to leave a headshot/res and to write down any conflicts I may have and leave them with the audition monitor.
I told the homeless fellow what the director told me. He kicked his dirty bag at me.
"Dere's some paper and pens in dere."
The paper was stained and crinkled. The pens were those cheapo markers you get from WalMart.
I decided it would be easier just to send an email.
"You're leavin'?"
"Yep," I said. "He's all done with me."
"It was a real pleasure to meet you. A REAL PLEASURE."
Handshake.
It was weird.
3 comments:
Did he have legs and feet? Or was he one of those truncated fellows who roll around on a skateboard everywhere they go?
Those dudes freak me out. I think it's their pant legs.
They're empty. And yet they don't cut them off at the knee or anything. They just let them flap in the breeze, trailing behind their skateboard torso like nightmarish windsocks.
Flippity-flap. Flippity-flippity-flap.
Maybe he wasn't really homeless. Maybe he's a Method Actor. It was really Bill Paxton. Maybe he's playing a toothless, fingerless, homeless man who helps with auditions and eats little debbie snacks. In order to get the part right he amputated his own fingers and pulled out his teeth.
You just insulted a big-time actor. Hopefully that doesn't come back to haunt you.
DAM NIT!
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