I’m sitting in the lobby. No one’s here today. No auditions, no one coming and going. No one listening to The Smiths or Pavement on the horrendous Bluetooth speakers mounted in the walls. There’s no one to pay, no one to page, and no one to administer the final punishment for Bennington Quibbits.
February 7 is the day that I become an Actor.
Scene…
I was sitting in the lobby—and someone came in. Not an executive. Not an agent. A director.
The director. You don’t know him.
I skipped the secretary, disposed against my kind—she was eating Kung Pao. “You can’t go in there, chicken.” She spat when she talked and unmentionable things came out of her mouth, as well as words. A woman in the grips of hatred is no different than a hyena, whereas a man I would simply spur-claw to death using two lateral throws and a triceps-bisecting swipe. Now who on Earth would want to do that to a woman? Be reasonable. She went back to her Kung Pao.
“Richard, you must stop talking about banana boats and graveyards. It’s scaring the clients. Having said that, they were impressed with your singing but could’ve done with less screaming. Just some advice for future parties and gatherings. Your friend, Warren Parsons.” So this man named Warren Parsons took one look at me and another at his fat secretary and blurted out, “Is this supposed to be funny? Half of my clients are part of PETA. They’re in PETA. I don’t want to be photographed with this chicken in my office.” I explained that I wasn’t “a chicken,” a derogatory slur denoting birds of both the rooster and hen origin, but, more importantly, I was a struggling actor. I still am.
Mr. Parsons’ hands went to his head. “This is scary. These fucking pills are driving me crazy.” His secretary asked if everything was okay. “No, it’s fine, Selena—I’m just seeing chickens in my office.” Just one, I reminded him. He jumped and crouched on his desk. “WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?! IS THIS A WETA EFFECT???!” I explained, once again, that I was a struggling actor looking to make it in Hollywood. Please sign me. He acquiesced, as they always do, because they’re scared of me. I’m one tough chicken.
After ripping up the carpet in Mr. Parsons’ office for a bit, I went out and gave the secretary a peck on the cheek and a pinch on the bum, reminding her that one donut was just enough and hey, maybe start thinking about diet pills… just saying. I put on the sunglasses I didn’t know I had. I walk into the sun, I walk into traffic. Mmmm. Feeling good, for the first time in my life. I’m walking down the street and I’m thinking about the blueberries I picked and how I’m going to show my cousin and his b…… no……… I walk alone…..
Annnnnnd scene!
I was cast in the lead role of a Hollywood film: Plurotica.
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