At least I think he was homeless. He sure seemed like he was, but how assuming of me. Because he had lots of clothes on and strange thick glasses over beady eyes and wild thinning black hair, I think he's homeless? OK, maybe not homeless, but surely crazy. He sat on a bench inside the building and stared at people, stared at me, for extremely long periods of time, periodically roaming around the room, sitting back down, staring, smiling his vacant half-smile. He was odd. But then, most actors are odd, so I first gave him the benefit of the doubt. Guess he thought there might be a part for him in "Marcy in the Galaxy," the musical. I had no idea what "Marcy in the Galaxy" was all about, save for what the casting call described. Maybe there was a crazy beady-eyed character in "Marcy in the Galaxy."
That's what I thought until I sat behind him in the audition line. It was his time to go into the room. He had given a headshot to the monitor. That's the only way he got on the line. The person before him had gone in, had sung, and had come out. She was finished, and it was his turn. But he didn't go in. He just sat there next to me as I looked at him. He looked straight ahead with his vacant expression. No book of music. He held nothing. Finally I spoke up. "I think you can go in, sir."
"Oh. Yeah."
So he went in, with no music for the accompanist to play. He shuffled in and closed the door and I waited. We all waited. We all listened.
Ten quiet seconds passed before us. We stared at the door. We heard nothing. Ten seconds, and the door opened. Beady eyes shuffled back out of the room and wandered off. Off to where, who knows?
It was my turn. I walked into the audition room and over to a stunned accompanist and a bewildered casting director. We looked at each other wide-eyed. I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't help it. I laughed. They laughed.
"I don't know what that was all about," I said.
The casting director shook his head. "I thought I was being punked or something."
I sat my music on the piano in front of the accompanist. "Well, whatever you do," she said, "it'll be better than that."
I wouldn't mind a crazy homeless man showing up at auditions more often.
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6 comments:
You should have hired him to open for you at auditions from now on. It probably wouldn't take long for every casting director in town to know your name. At the very least, you could become a wacky NYC celebrity like the naked cowboy.
Good idea, Aimful. Although I'm not sure my NYC fame would reach such heights as the Naked Cowboy's.
Haha, that's a funny story!
You have the most interesting stories, it's like out of a movie.
I wonder if he knew where he was? It's funny to me that he actually had a headshot. Did you catch a glimpse?
If Seth were truly supportive, he'd dress up like that and go before you at all the auditions. Just sayin'.
Hey Shelley! Did you know I can't get into your blog again? Boo. Probably because I've been the worst blogger in history lately. Still...boo.
KD, the headshot was funny to me, too! I asked the girl next to me if she saw what was on it. She hadn't. What I wanna know is what transpired behind closed doors. Did he just stand in the middle of the room and look at the casting director? Did he actually try to start singing, to no avail? Did he just wander around the room like he did in the holding room?
Cach, now THAT is a good idea. He could just walk into the room with baggy clothes, thick glasses, beady eyes, crazy hair, no music....stand in the middle of the room and cry, "WATER. BACK. ON. NOW!!!" Then shuffle out. It's perfect.
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