Boogie Nights

Today I had an audition and a meeting.

The audition was at a castle-like building and I read a scene from Proof. The character I played talked about her hair during the scene. Yes, I am having a fabulous hair day! Rock.

I’m auditioning for a showcase which would be put on in front of agents, casting directors, etc. No guarantees as to who will be there, and you have to pay to be in it. I thought “I could put on my own show for this amount.” But then, they have name recognition and are doing all the work.

I wasn’t nervous. I no longer get nervous.

Afterwards, I met with a director about a TV show pilot. They were casting for a few parts – something like an Asian girl and an Indian guy, I don’t really remember, I just know I was neither. I contacted the guy anyway because I got his name from a friend of a friend, and, well, you know how it goes. It’s all about networking. He said let’s meet up. The e-mail exchange went like this:

"How mobile are you?"

"What’s your nearest tube stop?"

"West Finchley."

I look up West Finchley on tube map. "I’ll be in Highgate on Tuesday for an audition..."

"Want to come up after your audition? It's only three more stations to the north. This, incidentally, is not a lonely, miserable man's pathetic attempt to lure a lone blonde woman into his lair. The missus'll be here."

Trying to ignore obvious attempt to meet at his house, "No problem, I can come up to West Finchley. I don't know how long the audition will be, it could take 15 minutes or an hour... so is there a coffee shop near the tube where I can wait for you? We could plan to meet at 5:30 if that works for you."

"Why not just swing by the old homestead, Lucy? As noted, this is not a lonely, miserable man's pathetic attempt to lure a lone blonde woman into his lair. The missus'll be here."

Right, I get the point. Is this a power struggle? Or just utter laziness?

I get to the guy’s house and my first thought was: where’s the missus? No missus. Okay… I look around, there are purple drapes and gold velour pillows and there’s a framed certificate on the table for “canine psychology”. We talk for awhile, he hands me a flyer for an upcoming show Tits ‘n’ Aspirations. Good title. I read more “His solo show about his experiences as an upscale pornographer (that is, senior editor of Larry Flynt Publications)”. I take another look at this guy. He’s wearing a tank top which is off center, covered by some sort of retro sports jacket. I have stepped into a frame from “Boogie Nights”.

I read a couple of scenes, one as a headmistress of a school and the second as an obese teen. He says he’ll get in touch with me.

I step outside into a torrential downpour. I get completely drenched from the waste down (the umbrella only provides so much coverage). I then get hit by a tidal wave brought on by a passing van. I laugh while walking to the bus stop, and a soaked girl going the other way passes me, laughing too.

When I finally get home, my shoes are trashed, but my hair still looks great.