Hot Babes In ToyLand Part TWO.

Of course it's not so simple to just show up for an audition. It's always somewhere in town you've never been or on a bus line you're not fimiliar with, or they ask you for a hard copy of your resume, which I'm like really? you have it in your email, print it out... or just look at it next time you're on your dang computer. Anyway, So i planned out my route, using the only bus route I know... and it turns out that the Public Library is on the same Avenue as the audition... given it's still several streets away, but i only have to walk down that ONE Avenue, how convenient.

So back to the bus, flipping my phone every two seconds to check the time... NEVER BE LATE FOR AN AUDITION ringing in my head from the young naive and ever so hopeful days of drama school... My stop comes up?? i suppose i didn't really know... i'm going by the seat of my pants a lot these days. so i jump up, "OH this is my stop!" yes i said that out loud, in my hooker outfit. so the bus driver kindly reopens the door for me to let me out. I pick up a slight jog up the hill. I have my map out, I am prepared. I make a couple of turns and Voila, There is the majestic looking Library. I love Libraries. They're so vast, and mysterious. It's only a good library if you can get lost in it... figuratively and literally.
I swing open the Library door, I go up to the front desk and ask politely as i can,
Me: "I just need to print off something from a computer, how do i go about doing that."
Librarian: "do you have a library card?"
Me: "No, you see, i just moved here.."
Freaking Libraries they make out that they are there to serve the public, and to provide knowledge and... cerebral generosity (if that even makes any sense)... So as she is taking an hour explaining the procedures and the directions to get to the application center, TO PRINT OFF A PIECE OF PAPER... I am already trying to think of ways i can get around the system. But Habits are things you should try to break. SO i listen patiently, and follow her directions... i do in fact get my library card for the Seattle Public Library, yea... however I am still Late and I am still dressed like a hooker in public.. around a lot of intellectuals. I must get to the Theatre ASAP. for they will understand.
With My new Library card in tow, I find a computer, locate my Resume and hit print... it's pending... i go check the printer.... nothing... i go back, try to hit print again... nothing... i go up to the other front desk and ask a sweet very smart looking boy... " HA, sorry, i am late, and I am flustered, this usually wouldn't be an issue, but i can't get my damn resume to print, is it just me, or is it really just "pending". Poor sweet guy, he walks over to the printer... asks me if i have money on my card...
Me: "I need MONEY on MY LIBRARY CARD?? what? where are the good old days where you save change for this shit... gone, that's where." Sweet guy, I think he was about to pass out.

So a sort of dance around the computer printer area begins, as I'm running back and forth from my computer spot to the printer, "Oh I need to grab my library card for the login code"... "oops i need my dollar bill", "Oh right, I need to press print"... again i say, "I am sorry, i'm not usually like this, I AM LATE YOU SEE, and it's MAKing me Quite flustered." all this would have been almost normal had i been dressed like a normal person, but no, lets remember, i do look, i mean really look like a hooker. and with my desperation, and urgency to follow, the act was... very believable.
Finally, I have my resume, and I am headed up that ONE Avenue towards my audition.. Madison Avenue, actually was its name. if that means anything to anyone... good.
I get to my audition... It's normal, I come in, wait in the lounge area, try to have casual friendly chats with the people in the room, all of us resisting looking each other up and down, and repeating to ourselves over and over, it's the EXPERIENCE of auditioning that counts, not the RESULT... So it's my turn, I enter the theatre, a deseptively large black box type... it warms my soul to be in it's space... all insecurity of my dress, and how sexy I am or not dissappear. I am in a theatre, with it's red stadium seats, all wood painted black... lights hang sleeping from the ceiling awaiting their cue to capture the magic that is about to happen... I am in love and entranced, for those few seconds of my entrance...
THEN I am handed the script... I look over it, chuckle occasionally just incase the director was also the writer... ??
So okay, do you want to start, or shall i begin, I say.. He starts with the first line... we're reading and I am being seductive or a bimbo, does it really matter at this point? And then there comes a point in the script where it is making fun of an elf... a short person... a midget... and well, the director happens to be a midget... the man that i am reading with... and I don't know, am i suppose to direct the question at him... or look out into the void, where there could possibly be another midget?... Or is he just trying to see how daring I am, and if I confront my fear, and make a stand against what is PC or polite, or the way society expects us to behave... ?? so trying not to embarrass myself anymore, i stare cross eyed into the space directly above his right shoulder... maybe I am looking at him, maybe I am not? there, Now how does HE feel about THAT.
the only thing i can say to end the story is this...

"To live a Creative Life, we must lose our fear of being wrong."
-joseph chilton pearce