Worth a Shot

So today I got headshots taken. It’s pretty much a requirement to be a Los Angeles resident. Now that I am amongst the “un“, or what I like to  call, “fun”-employed (can you believe I just thought of that?), I thought I might try to pick up some work by being cast as a movie extra. I loved “Where’s Waldo,” as a child – how fun would it be if I were Waldo? Where else but Craigslist, the web’s best site, could I so easily find a company willing and ready to interview me. I arrived at the casting session and was told to sign in and take a piece of paper that had some dialogue written on it. Not since Jeff Lakes Day Camp, summer of 1992, did I get to show off my theatrical talents in the staring role of Albert in “Bye Bye Birdie.” Finally, my time has come again. This casting director was in for the performance of a lifetime. I was called into the room and a woman who looked like she would rather be getting a rectal exam than have to talk to me, gave me a once over, and asked me to read the lines. I gave it my best dramatic performance I could, which involved me varying the inflection of my tone when emphasizing the lines “she says any day now, but it has been 3 years! I understand it’s your mother, but what about us?” Chilling. The woman wrote down “Jimmy” on a business card and told me to call him the following day at 10:20AM SHARP.

I arrived at his “studio” and by “studio” I mean dirty living room converted into a studio with a white backdrop and circle thingy that reflects the big lighty thingy. Thomas was a friendly fellow. Probably in his late 50s, I couldn’t help pity him when he referenced his “roommate.” However, he seemed happy with his life – he’s from Detroit and if Michael Moore’s movies taught me anything, it’s that Detroit is the most depressing place on this earth. So Los Angles must be like heaven for him. Thomas had me stand in front of the backdrop and soon he was flashing away. Look up, chin down, eyes backward…I felt like a dog trying to catch a fly. After the first 10 minutes, my mouth started to hurt from smiling so much. I’m no Zoolander – didn’t have Blue Steel or Magnum in my back pocket. My looks consisted of a smile, repeated several times over. And for 60 photos that is what I got. He did however, ask me to do a serious look and I struggled to come up with that expression. “Look like you are trying to pick up a guy at a bar,” he advised. If I knew how to do that, I’d have a boyfriend by now! Instead, I ended up with this.