It's an early start today, and I'm signed up for two auditions by 9am. Tigers Be Still is a straight play, but the sides are provided, and I'm a close fit for several of the character types. It's an EPA, and there are two or three dozen people in line by 8:30. The studio hasn't even opened yet. We all wait in the hallway, our ever-growing line of actors snaking back and forth and back and forth until we're sardined together with barely enough room to let people out of the elevators.
Once we're let in, I get my name on the non-Equity list. Armed with my usual arsenal of makeup, hairspray, and my flat iron, I plug in in front of one of the mirrors and get to work on my audition face. The auditions move along quickly enough, but I know it won't be until later in the afternoon that I'm seen, if at all. Sides for the roles are posted and soon there's a swarm of actors standing around them. The four sheets of paper are taped to a wall where eager actors scribble furiously to get all the lines down and get the heck out of the way. Others use their iPhones. Very smart move. I eventually elbow my way within viewing range and write mine down by hand. Ouch.
At noon, I walk down one block to Pearl Studios and the audition for Man of La Mancha. Mine and Elizabeth's names are already on the list from earlier in the morning. I'm one of only a handful of women waiting when I walk in, so I busy myself prepping my music. By 1:30, the room is full, and Elizabeth is there with me. Auditions start at 2:00, and since it's an open call and I'm number 20 on the list, my turn comes quickly. I sing 32 bars of "I'll Know" from Guys and Dolls, say my thank-you, and that's it. I check in with Tigers Be Still next door at Ripley Grier Studios, but they stopped taking non-Equity hours ago. I'd copied two pages of the script and could have spared myself the hand-cramp, but oh well. You win some, you lose some.
On the way home, I stop at Trader Joe's for some fixins for a recipe I got from Brooke. I love that store, even if it is a zoo. At home later on, I heat up leftover spaghetti, pour myself a glass of wine, and settle down to two dramatic no-brainer hours with The Bachelorette. Don't judge.