I've had a lot more auditions, lately, though which is always a good sign because the government cheese will only be doled out for so long and then I really will have to resort to being NYC's oldest coatcheck girl. so getting a callback is big excitement for me. yes a callback - can you believe it. woo hoo. a callback for a fucking piece of cheese. now don't get me wrong - I really love cheese. all kinds - from a deli-sliced American square to a decadent sliver of humboldt fog. however, the older and stinkier it is, the more time I tend to spend with it. kind of like a dirty old man you know you shouldn't be flirting with, but you keep doing it because it's just so wrong. so - after getting my foot injected with botox or whatever it is my podiatrist had in that needle, I hobbled down to the flatiron district for my audition. once I got there, I got my picture taken (trying to look as much like the "wry" grocery shopper that I am), read the copy and waited for my name to be called. once in the room alongside four other "mothershopper" types - an older lady, an Hispanic lady and one other young whitey, the elderly male director asked us to read our lines with various degrees of surprise at having to address a giant wedge of cheese. I hadn't eaten lunch yet so I not only started thinking about how I could get the director's attention but also how yummy it would be to take a bite out of a giant wedge of cheese. my inner monologue got real confused - it went something like this: "I want to eat you, you big old stinking piece of cheese. pick me and I'll eat you so hard." I'm sure I made for a very salacious shopper, to say the least.
