Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘day jobs’

Know who this is? No? I  didn’t either until I spent Friday running around Times Square asking people Do you know who I am? NARUTO! Now I know he is a Japanese Manga character, his birthday was Friday, and onlythe people who attend comic conventions and the occasional Japanese tourist knows who he is.

He was my ticket into the crazy world of ComicCon (touched upon in my last post). Now that I am no longer employed as a pirate, I am a freelance promoter/brand ambassador/promotional model. That means I hand out a lot of free shit. Naruto swag was as good as it gets- I passed out $20 T-shirts, tote bags, plush toys, action figures- nice stuff; truly a shame I had no interest in the subject. I get paid to give people free stuff, dress up like a Japanese Manga character, and people watch at ComicCon. Not as cool as being a pirate, but still fun.

I was dressed in the orange outfit and black headband you see in the picture, joined by 30 other promoters in the same garb, running around ComicCon. They didn’t let me keep the outfit- a huge disappointment, I thought I’d solved What Should I Be For Halloween? ComicCon is very much like Halloween. In between karate moves (we were told to do them to attract consumer interest, I am NOT kidding) and passing out swag, I snapped pictures (on my SHITTY phone- apologies for the quality) of the patrons of ComicCon.

Sonic and Fox! These were among the only characters I recognised.

Yeah, no clue who they’re supposed to be. But they were thrilled to have their picture taken!

I think they might be characters in a comic they wrote themselves. That red face paint show “I am the creator” kind of dedication.

Recognize these ladies? Like Halloween/Ren Fair, ComicCon is an excuse for women to show T&A. But maybe you can’t tell that from this picture. My phone started taking extremely low resolution pictures at this point.

Can you see anything in this picture? It’s the true tragedy of my shitty phone. These guys came in dressed like aliens with SUPER detailed scary looking costumes. There were six of them and when they marched up to Javits Center there was seriously a feeling of invasion. I’m so bummed I failed to capture it on film!

Best people watching ever on the job, and that’s saying something as I’ve worked next to the Naked Cowboy!

Read Full Post »

Renaissance fairs attract a certain kind of person.

Geeks. Nerds. (I know there’s a difference between the two; if I go back next year, maybe I’ll figure out what it is.)

I had a nerd-awakening this summer and I was completely unprepared for it.

I played hacky sack.

I visited a comic book store.

I learned at least the names of the super heroes represented on t-shirts worn by my cast mates (a shirt I’d always thought to be for Homestar Runner turns out to be for The Flash. Oops!)

I almost bought a superman hat because all the other pirates coincidentally had matching ones.

And one warm night it early August, just before a meteor shower, I lost my Star Wars virginity.

Yep, I’d never seen any of Star Wars.  My 2 nerdy neighbors (the finest men you’ll ever meet) told me they’d be gentle, popped popcorn, fired up a laptop, and held my hand through Episodes 4-6.  When we were finished, they looked deep into my eyes and made me promise not to watch the “abominations” of 1-3.

I ran around dressed as a pirate every weekend, is any one surprised some “geek” rubbed off on me? Really, you’d be surprise if it hadn’t.  I came back to NYC in a sweat. Not only was I worried I’d forget I left the woods and accidentally pee behind a tree, I was worried my entire identity had changed. What if I was no longer the hip, struggling actor but instead a nerdy, awkward role-player? I’m sorry but that’s no kind of New York cliché especially for the sake of this blog, mine was a valid concern.

Fortunately I worried for naught. I slipped back into New York City life almost as if I’d never left. I feel at home here, I really do. What am I up to? (“What’s up?” As we all love to ask.) I’ve been doing freelance promotions for the past month, making good money smiling and passing out free shit. Sometimes I’m on the street. other times at an event. This weekend I got a great taste of what my life as a “nerdy, awkward role-player” would be like, and made me think twice about dismissing it as a non-New York cliché.  I worked a gig at the New York City Comic Convention (ComicCon) an event I had heard of, but never quite imagined. Turns out it’s quite similar to a Ren Faire, including the prevalence of clevage but not turkey legs.

Here’s another reason I can not be a geek/nerd. My technology sucks. My phone is falling apart and even has a broken speaker so that it doesn’t ring (no joke). But on the bright side, it does vibrate and it does take pictures. Even a ridiculously low resolution picture speaks a thousand words. You’ll really see what I mean next post.

Read Full Post »

Presently I am the perfect cliché of Writer at Café. If you wrote a book and titled it  that, you would want the picture of me as I am this very second on your cover.

The far corner of my view is obstructed by the back of LUNCH SPECIALS and CARTA DEI VINI. In fact they serve a purpose of hiding my netbook so I don’t seem quite such a poseur to the common passerby. Although if anyone does see it, I still very much pass for a student and studying is a perfectly acceptable reason to be on a laptop in a cafe. I’m self conscious, imagining everyone can see me for the self-important blogger I am (but have been embarrassingly neglectful for over two weeks). I’m not editing a final paper, not answering urgent emails, not drafting an article, not managing my stock portfolio. I’m unemployed and struggling to motivate myself to form semi-interesting paragraphs about the goings-on in my life. Which, honestly, is just how I look, and if any one looked closely, I’m sure they’d be able to guess this in a second. You can judge this book by its cover, sure. But who am I kidding? This is New York City, the only person who is even aware of my existence is the barista who brought me my chai latte and maybe the toddlers being pushed in their strollers who take in their surrounding with a wonder we adults have long forgotten.

There’s a little boy playing peek a boo from the window of the building opposite. Which makes me think how rarely we take the time to look out windows. Growing up my bedroom window overlooked the intersection of 2 picturesque San Francisco streets and I literally spent hours staring out of it, people watching and daydreaming. Ten years later I spend hours staring at Windows XP. Granted, the view from my present bedroom window is largely the building across from mine and a pathetic excuse for a courtyard that separates us. But this stool in the Arte Cafe on Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side of Manhattan places me face to face with a window. And between typed sentences and sips of chai I drink in my surroundings, able to cherish these moments as I am not on a deadline, have no commitments for 36 hours at the least, and am writing for the simple reason that I feel bad when I don’t.

Against the layers of cloudy sky above I see the dots of 3 bug-like blinking helicopters. When paired with a wailing fire engine flying down the street below I must wonder “what’s going on?” The internet at my finger tips provides no answers- must not be anything I should worry about. Had I a TV, maybe I’d see it on the evening news. But I don’t and so dismiss it from my mind and return to my window.

I see my bicycle is still safely locked outside and it is not alone. Every traffic sign and tree I can see bares at least one bicycle chained to it with the necessary extra-strength NYC locks. Not only do us bicyclist live in constant fear of dying on our bikes as we ride down city streets, the moment we get off them we live in fear they will be stolen in spite of the industrial locks. I dated a cyclist for a bit (Banjo Guy), someone who rode everywhere and had a sizable amount of money invested in his transportation, an amount which grew weekly as he added improvements/embellishments. Any meal with him, any kind of outing actually, was interrupted several times with him leaving to check on his bicycle. Though I found this annoying and excessive to perhaps the point of paranoia, I did understand it. Every time I return to my locked bicycle visions of it sans seat, sans wheel, or just gone all together flash before my eyes. However thus far not one of these visions has had any weight in real life. We’re (me and my bike) hoping it stays that way.

When I get up to go to the bathroom a fellow customer, an older man in a party who looks as though they hailed from Europe tries to get his bill from me. Momentary utter confusion. Apparently I don’t look like a blogger, I look like a cafe server. Hmm..same difference?

The UWS is living up to its stereotype as a family neighborhood. Countless strollers pass by, people walking dogs, and little girls holding hands in four-year-old friendship which I remember enviously, one wearing a pink polka dot sweater I would have traded favorite stuffed-animals for.

It makes sense I’m having flashbacks to childhood. I’m enjoying a surprisingly care-free month. I don’t have rent looming, I’ve been working enough to not qualify for unemployment/worry much, and my  nights are deliciously free of “aaah I have to wake up for work in 6 hours!”. I have time to sit at a cafe and type what ever pops into my mind. I’d say unemployment suits me, but that would be a lie. This is unemployment with the end quite in sight- less than two weeks away. I call it unemployment, most people would call it a vacation. Potaytoe Potahtoe.

Read Full Post »

Well guys, this is it.

My last entry on the clock. The last entry I can technically say I’m getting paid to write.

No, no one pays me to write this blog (big surprise right?) but my last dozen entries were written while I was on the clock, in the moments of so familiar to the administrative assistant- the phone isn’t ringing, reports are completed, mail’s been sorted- time must be killed. I hate to think what the secretaries of yore did sans computers. Us modern day office people sit in front of the machine that provides  society with more time wasting options than ever before. It’s either great or gross, your pick.

It’s my last half hour behind a desk. My bedroom is too small for a desk- that’s New York living- so all entries henceforth will be written from the comfort of my bed or the kitchen table. Or at Starbucks (or some other free internet venue) where people will oggle my netbook and I will feel pretentious.

I am not sad to leave this job. I think I’ve made that clear in previous posts, but I just want to reiterate. Let’s be honest, the 9-5 world kinda sucks. When the clock strikes 5pm today, I’m officially a working actor. I can say this because most of being a working actor is looking for work to pay the bills between jobs. That’s all I will be doing for the month of May. I’ve already started calling temp agencies, so who knows, I could be in back of a desk by the end of the week. But I already have some promotions lined up. Liquor, dodge ball, and protein bars. Hey, it’s better than theater consession sales and desks.

Though I will miss the theatre aspect of this job. I never benefited off the refreshment aspect-rather felt my eyes grow green with jealousy as a Jack Daniels connection gifted my manager multiple bottles of Jack- I have certainly benefited from the theatre part. I’ve seen half a dozen Broadway shows for absolutely free. It doesn’t get better than that. I was somewhat choosey with my picks- and therefore great enjoyed each one, but I can easily rank them:

1. Next to Normal Oh my goodness, I’ve never cried this much while watching a play. The music is great, the story original (this is a rare that a musical has no source material), and it is so well performed. I often have trouble watching musical theatre, it so often leans to showing show-men rather than showing humanity and that is what this musical captured beautifully

2. A View From The Bridge Liev Schreiber was brilliant and Scarlett Johansson not half bad. This play had the effect on me that tragedy aims for- catharis. I love leaving a theatre when a play has transformed my mental state, this and Next to Normal did just that.

3. Red A two person single set play, I am a sucker for them. About Mark Rothco and his abstract paintings, which are easily the most scoffed at paintings in the MOMA. Brilliant performances from both actors. I love when performers make me abandon my critical eye as an actor/director and just suck me into a performance.

4. God of Carnage Strong performances, single set, the rave reviews and last years Tony award gave me high expectations which were not met. I felt like the play had the potential to say more, I was waiting for its point, which never exactly came and I looked at my watch far to many times in the 90 minute run.

5. Behanding in Spokane Again, high expectations that were not met. I love Martin McDonagh and have read the majority of his plays. This is my least favorite. That said, I still enjoy his dark twisted humor and Christopher Walken was captivating in this.

6. La Cage Au Folles A lot of fun, just not my cup of tea. Apparently I like make-me-cry shows not feel-good ones. Really I like shows that have something to say and/or affect me significantly.

7. In the Next Room: The Vibrator Play Interesting subject-”hysterical” women and how hysteria treated in the Victorian era- presented in a straight forward way. Interesting but did not affect me

As I finish this post and pack up my things, “accidentally” slipping a box or 2 of tissues into my bag as well (and a pen or 2 and I printed out a bunch of resumes..), the girl who hired me and who told me I was fired says good-bye. Before she leaves she mentions if I ever want to see a show to just give her a call! Looks like I’m not even loosing that perk! Brilliant. Ok finished! Now to clear the computer history, turn it off, and I’m out of the office and on to better things!

Read Full Post »

There is Good News and there is Bad News, to the extreme on both ends.

Fortunately the Good News happened first. Other wise I might not have made it through the week.

Us new New Yorkers get asked “So why did you move to New York?” all the time. It is often a precursor to the discussed What’s the difference between the East Coast and West Coast? My answer is generally “Theatre.” Yes, I am an aspiring actor, in case you forgot, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you had. I’ve been doing much more aspiring than acting these days. And honestly not too much aspiring even. With ENT bills still haunting me and Mahattan rent, making money has been my #1 priority for many months. I’ve assistant directed a play and been on a handful of auditions but I have to admit it’s been on a hobby level. Which I’m okay with- putting off pursuing my dreams for a bit is fine, plus I’m pursuing my dream of living in NYC which is impossible without money. It’s all relative.

We artists are obsessed with “selling out”, “failure”, “giving up”.  Right, these fears only plague artists.

Any how.

On Monday, 7 minutes before the end of my desk-job work day, I received a call from the only audition I’d been on in April (maybe I’d been on 2, but I don’t think so) offering me a part. A paid part. An offer to pay me money to do what I love.

You want details? It’s an offer to be a part of “the oldest full-time professional acting troupe of any Renaissance Festival, and the inspiration behind many interactive entertainment groups in major theme parks across the country” to quote the website. The part is that of a female pirate, “piratess” (yes, there were pirates during the Renaissance just ask wikipedia, and yes, female pirates did exist, though rarely: it’s legit) in a band of 3 pirates out of 30 actors in the over all ensemble. The contract is from June 1-August 16 with the festival only on weekends, meaning the rest of the week is devoted to rehearsal annnnd basically summer vacation because it’s all in upstate NY, 6 hours away from NYC and they provide company housing (and board on the weekends). Spending a summer pretending I’m a pirate, swimming in Lake Ontario, star gazing, hiking, and other “middle of no where” (as we refer to it in NYC) activities; free rent, and a weekly pay check? Or sitting at a desk from 9-5 on beautiful sunny days, dreaming of evenings spent doing all the million awesome things there are to do in this city in the summer and weekends at the beach? Not too much of a contest. I will sorely miss Shakespeare in the Park, roof top bars, outdoor movies, my friends, etc. etc. But trading in the Administrative Assistant title for that or Professional Actor? That’s my dream right there. And June 1st, it looks like it will be coming true- I signed the contract (!!! contracts scare me) but have yet to receive my counter signed copy, so it’s not 100% official.

My reaction to success surprises me. I would imagine myself ecstatic at such an offer, shouting from the rooftops  with glee. It’s much more mixed than that. There’s fear in such success, disbelief, worry that it’s too good to be true.  In this particular example- worry about subletting my apartment for the summer, being unemployed on August 16, telling my office I’m leaving. I guess that makes me a grown up.

Now the bad news.

I decided not to tell work immediately that I was leaving. Wait for 3-4 weeks notice. My superior recently gave me a wink while talking about previous people in my position, how long they stayed on for, and how nice it would be to have someone stick around for a couple years. I could have told her right then and there I wasn’t planning on doing that, but instead pretended it might be an option, and now that I wasn’t even getting past my 6 month mark I felt a little bad. Not that I had signed a contract here or anything.

On Friday however, I learned that quitting my job was nothing I would have to worry about. Because on Friday I was, abruptly, never-saw-it-coming, no-kind-of-warning FIRED. I’ve never been fired before ever. It was shocking to say the least. Everyone who is in the office on a normal basis was about as shocked as I- or so I’ve been told. My firing was in the hands of the Big Boss Man (with the Prostate Problem) who is, as I’ve mentioned, almost never in the office. He had never reprimanded me previously, never mentioned I was doing an unsatisfactory job and needed to improve or face consequences. Maybe it’s because he found my blog, but I highly doubt it.

I’ve been told I was let go because my sales reports had too many detail errors. I can’t deny this, but will say the majority of these errors were because he demanded the reports prematurely, expected me to understand things with no explanation, or because the creator of the report told me it was “ready to go” when it wasn’t. I trust people and don’t read minds. It’s all an extremely aggravating reason to loose a job.

To add to it? They told me I could stay on until the end of the month (April) and needing the money, I accepted. So, as I type I am still behind my desk. Fuming as it is Administrative Professionals Day and no one gives a shit about me. It is awkward as hell working here knowing I’ve been fired. Talk about no motivation. I mean, what are they going to do? Fire me? And no one is talking about it. It’s this huge elephant in the room. I’ve named him Marvin. Marvin the Elephant is the only one in this office who understands me.

Whatever. I was going to quit any way.

So here I am, 8 more days stuck at a desk, 1 month of unemployment, a summer of professional acting, and then…who knows. I have a 4 month plan- that’s more than I can usually say.

Read Full Post »

The truly technical term for my line of work is “street team member.” Any show with any kind of budget these days has one (including the guy who stands on the corner for “Private Eyes Gentleman’s Club”. Total creeper.) You see us loitering street corners dressed in the-show-that-owns-us paraphernalia handing out fliers or fans or yelling ear catching jingles. Fortunately working for “the man” sells itself- it’s possibly the most recognizable brand name in America- so I never have to yell anything or make any kind of pitch. I’m still out there acting my ass off however, as the model cute/friendly/helpful/happy-go-lucky street team member. It’s quite the role, not really my type per say but I rock it.

All the different street teams are pretty buddy-buddy out on the streets. There’s a shared “omg tourists suck and it’s hot as balls” that really brings people together. We watch each others backs against the weirdos and share stories about the ridiculous things people do. We’re all in the same boat (although I’ve learned “the man” pays $3 more per hour than the non-man…)

Then there’s the street team for Young Frankenstein (the musical). No cute-friendly-helpful bullshit roles for them. They’ve got a tiny team -only two guys- who are dressed up like Frankenstein (the monster) and Igor from the show. They get to run around Times Square as their monster characters scaring tourists, posing for pictures, teasing everyone, and hell having a jolly fun time.

Frankenstein, as he is a newly created monster of course, doesn’t really talk to people- he growls and grunts, bears his fangs and basically sends them to Igor if they have any questions. That’s the way to deal with silly tourists. Now imagine my surprise when one day he comes over to me, drops the character: “God, can you believe how fucking hot it is today? Woo!” He has a tenor voice with a decidedly gay inflection. Totally cute! OMG, You can talk! I blunder back- immediately realizing what an idiot I sound like.

From then on we’ve been friends. I’ve learned that he has a major cooling system inside his costume- completely with fans (the lucky bastard), that Igor wears glasses but he can’t wear them in character so he’s wandering around half blind, that Frankenstein also teaches dance. They’re two really nice guys. It never gets old watching them scare people, or teasing traffic guards, or dancing like no one’s watching (but everyone is) to Sexy Back outside Virgin Megastore. But my favorite moments are when they’re out of character and you see Frankenstein texting on his cell and Igor sucking down a Sunkist. Those are the moments I wish I had a huge state-of-the-art camera strapped around my neck with the telephoto lens in my fanny pack.

I’m still working the ushering gig at night. This means I’m working 49 hours a week. Which is draining as all hell. That and two+ hours of travel time a day…well now you understand the sporadic nature of my updates. The plus side is ushering just got a lot more fun. The Shakespearean tragedy has been replaced by an awesomely energetic rock musical. So the energy in the theater is completely different (it’s tangible, trust me), the audience is completely different, and the show is a whole hour shorter so sometimes I get some sleep.

People like this play, it’s gotten much better press, and has sort of become the must-see play of the summer. This leads to a much more star studded audience. One of the first nights it started raining during the second act. Rain means we ushers really have to work for our money. Rain means every audience member in possession of an umbrella wants to put it up to keep dry, makes sense right? The problem is people behind an umbrella can’t see the stage. Rain means a loosing battle asking patrons to please put the umbrellas down. Now imagine having this battle with Mary-Louise Parker. Yep. Light rain has begun to fall, an umbrella goes up and before I realize who’s under it I’m poking under it informing Ms. Parker that we have to ask her to put it down because it blocks the view of those in back of her. “Well what am I supposed to do?” she asks me. “Uh, get wet? I’m sorry!” I say before I run off to fight more umbrella battles. Awkward! Especially because I really admire her as an actress and love Angels in America and Weeds. Her date was her co-star from Weeds, Justin Kirk (Uncle Andy) so in spite of my the awkwardness, it was pretty cool.

In attendance we’ve had Joan Rivers (who tried to help me do my job. I’m trying to get a woman with crutches to her seat, which is proving slightly difficult, and Joan pipes up “Where are you trying to get her to?” Let me worry about that, thanks. Girl looks even worse than she does on tv), Sandra Oh, Jay- the first winner of Project Runway, and Kevin Kline. I listened to Zach Braff sing to his girlfriend (according to a little imdb search they weren’t officially together at the time of my sighting which I think is funny cause I could’ve called up trashy gossip magazines and caused an “are they back together??” story) as they exited the theater. After observing him throughout the show (he was right in front of me, I couldn’t help it) I gotta say the man doesn’t do much acting on Scrubs. He is JD, JD is him, one and the same.

Along with the celebrities I still keep running into people I know. From high school, college, you name it. Still it surprises me when I’m walking into the theater one night and hear a “Hi!” directed towards me. Especially when it’s coming from a (though seemingly harmless) man I’ve never seen in my life. The look plastered all over my face is ugh, why do random men always talk to me but I’m supposed to be in friendly-helpful staff mode so I reply, “Uh, hi.” He laughs, “Oh, you don’t recognize me!” He then bares his teeth and growls. It’s Frankenstein! Sans costume, off the clock! I get to see him for what he is: sweet, cute, charming, little gay man by night, scary green monster by day. Arguably my favorite star sighting yet.

Read Full Post »

I got a day job.Here is my office:

Here are others who occupy the building:

The most famous. He's sold out though (not that I blame him)- he now has Viacom (literally) all over his ass.

The most famous. He’s sold out (not that I blame him) and now (literally) has Viacom all over his ass.

The [deflated/aged] Naked Cowgirl. Not only knocking off the Naked Cowboy but also knocking off a previous Naked Cowgirl. Girl should not be running around in skivies but hell, power to her.

The [deflated/aged] Naked Cowgirl. Not only knocking off the Naked Cowboy but also knocking off a previous Naked Cowgirl. Girl should not be running around in skivies but hell, power to her.

Lady Liberty. She (he? who knows?) is scary cause you can't see her (his? see my point?) face!

Lady Liberty. She (he? who knows?) is scary cause you can’t see her (his? see my point?) face!

Spiderman. Yep, he's dressed up like Spiderman and runs around posing for picture. Again, not a big fan cause you can't see his (but you can tell that) face.

Spiderman. Yep, he runs around posing for pictures. Again, scary cause you can’t see his (though you can tell that) face.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, I am working the streets. Oh God, we always joked the only thing a theatre BA would qualify you to do was suck cock and that “Become a whore.” was a fun answer to “So what are you going to do after graduation?” but we never actually thought you’d do it! What has the Big Apple done to you!?Unbunch your panties. I have not plummeted from the Prudy Judy side of the spectrum to the lowest ring of the Slutty Butty side (although events from the previous weekend make for speculation ummm… that’s another story!) No, I am not a nooner hooker. No, I am not running around dressed up as Giselle posing for pictures with tourists. Although that is not a bad idea….I’d be awesome at pretending to be a princess and totally fulfill childhood fantasies to boot.Can't you see me?

So what the hell am I doing? I am working for “the man” (and that’s the biggest hint I can give) of the theatre world. Doing publicity for Broadway shows. That’s what I tell people, especially if I’m trying to sound like I have a fancy grown up job. “Publicity for Broadway”- sounds like a career,  right? Ha. This “publicity” = me standing on a street corner, wearing a blue visor and t-shirt, looking like a camp counselor (Just an observation: fewer people wear visors than ponchos these days, they aren’t even favored by tourists) passing out fans. The fan is the brilliant summer alternative to the pamphlet. It’s a piece of paper attached to a popsicle stick- that makes it a fan and thus a souvenir. A free souvenir. That makes people want them. And they don’t just get shoved in a pocket like a pamphlet. People wave them around, literally all over town. I’ve seen them up in Central Park, in Chinatown, it’s crazy. Crazy, brilliant advertising. So I stand there, hand these out to people “Is it free? Really?? AWESOME!”, answer stupid tourist questions, smile a lot, people watch like it’s my job, and get paid $18/hr. Compared to what I’d be making as a prostitute, that’s nothing. But it’s pretty sweet for the amount (really lack there of) of effort I put out.

My actually like my coworkers. I was a little apprehensive at first because they are very musical theater- jazz hands, fan kicks, and all. It was a bit much for me on first reaction. But now it’s simmered down. We all share a tiny room stuffed with boxes of fans- close as hell quarters- and I don’t as of yet have urges to kill any of them. I don’t even flinch when they call me sweetie/baby/darling 20 times a day. I somehow find it endearing. Though I’m not spouting pet names out to all my casual acquaintances, I can see it happening in the future and I have to ask myself- is that risk worth the $18/hr? Only cause we’re in a recession.My coworkers know more about the theatre world than I do, which is a cool and rather unusual experience for me. For the most part they’re older than me, too. Which I greatly prefer. I don’t feel like I’m wasting my life yet, it’s just not prime. It’s also awesome because most of them are working actors. One just finished filming a network-ABC-tv show. One just quit to go on tour with Cats. Several have been in Off Broadway shows. My supervisor was up for the part of Simba in The Lion King until he befell an awful throat disease (he’s bitter and amusing). It’s great to be around working actors. And here we all are working for the theatre man in menial labor tasks. I’ve got a bright future: I always wanted to see the lights of Broadway. Now that’s my job. Perhaps this gig is the closest I’ll get. Time’ll tell.

Read Full Post »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 733 other followers