Two weekends ago I auditioned at The History Theater for their fall production of The Orphan Train. After some consideration, I have come to the conclusion that it is indeed fair to extend the metaphor to daily-newspaper-movie-review obnoxiousness, and call the audition An Orphan Trainwreck.
Upon checking in, I realize that I can hear the auditioners in the rehearsal room. This is not good for two reasons – it means that a) I’ll be listening to the auditioners and gauging myself against them; and more importantly, b) the other auditioners will listen when I’m auditioning and gauge themselves against me. This thought rattled my cage a little.
After I’ve found a little corner to go over my monologue and song in my head, in walks the real-world incarnation of Darth Maul – one of the meanest and most immature people I’ve ever worked with. Ever. Truly, in the past 15 years of acting, there are only five people whom with I’ve ever had problems working…of those five people, she wins, hands down, for Most Evil. Consider this point in relation to Point B of Paragraph Two.
So now I’m going over my monologue and song in my head, listening to the other auditioners, and thinking about how “Vader” is a funny thing to nickname a mean girl (but how Darth Maul isn’t funny and neither is this girl who is now in the room with me). Then Teresa gets called in for her audition. Teresa is the person who is scheduled immediately before me. Teresa is also the person who goes into the rehearsal room and proceeds to audition using the same song that I am going to be auditioning with for the very first time. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I get into the audition room and meet the director, choreographer, composer, and accompanist. They’re all lovely. But then I recognize the choreographer, and proceed to quickly acknowledge our connection. Bad move. Turns out she left my present talent guild about a month after I started there, on bad terms. So now I’m immediately associated with bad terms. Dear Leigha, meet your new friend, Losing Battle.
Overall, the day did everything it possibly could to freak me right the hell out. Despite that, the song and monologue actually went well. But just to finish things off, I almost got mugged on the way back to my car. But I didn’t actually get mugged, so score one for Horton. Take that, stupid day.
And because I’m the total dork that I am, I literally gave myself a pat on the back when I was driving home.