Nightmare 16 July featuring...

I’m in a large room doing PAA. The kids arrive -30 of them -and I realize it’s 7pm, time to go.  I look at Jenna for an explanation as to why they are so late and am I expected to do anything with no time, and she smiles and shrugs. So I shorten what I need to do, talk to the kids as I must and bolt, as I was supposed to be at my next job-waiting tables-by 7 and I’m clearly not going to make it. (Waking kryssi hates these time crunch anxiety dreams and usually I will wake myself up when I see them coming, but I was out cold.)On my way out I say to a PAA coworker “Why am I even trying, by the time I get home and dressed it’ll be past 8. No point in even going. And it’s my first day, they may not even notice.” Still I bolt. (A common theme in my time crunch dreams is multiple jobs, and I’m always running late.)

I do not have a car- a running theme both in my dreams and in life- so I run to the dock as my dream ritual is to catch rides on the back of delivery trucks. A massive long caterpillaresque semi turns the tight corner and the wind blows me over. The next truck pulls in and out before I can jump on the back, I try to jump but it pulls out too fast. Then realize I have my own car tonight. So I run to it and go to LHS. Not my wait job, not home, but LHS. Which is not physically LHS, it’s massive and the front looks a lot like my elementary school. I stop because I need something there but in my waking life, as I retell this, I couldn’t tell you what I thought I needed, I just drove to the school.

All doors are locked so I go in through the science rooms, where all the science teachers are having a big party, they’re clearly drunk and moving boxes everywhere and laughing. I just run through to the outside front, where I see beer bottles strewn on the lawn.  I call to the Sciences through the window “Ladies, you need to make sure you clean this up” and they howl and cackle. I get the feeling there is a bonfire in one of the science rooms.

 Then I realize lang arts is on the front lawn, down center, and Judy Vlasin and Diana Solis have joined them. I’m too far away to call down, and I’m in a hurry, so I keep running to the other side where the theatre is. As I go, Eric Pung leaps into lang arts from the front parking lot screaming “JUDEEEEEEE!!!!! I’m so glad you called me, I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t you”. I want to stop, these are my favorite people, but I have to keep going. I am now in a full on crunch panic. As I pushed into the theatre entrance, a dog brushes past me on my left and runs in then disappears. It does not resemble any theatre I’ve been in in waking life, it’s my dream life theatre, which is all red in the lobby and curves and has multiple house entrances. I run back stage and the science teachers are there, this time Monty and a social worker are with them, and they are pulling furniture and boxes out of the props loft. I have to get OUT of the school at this point  as I am in a full panic,  so I ask without stopping what is going on . Monty replies---sheepishly and drunkenly---that admin told them they could have whatever they wanted. His box has a crown in it, the social worker is dragging a throne.  In my dream brain I know this has something to do with the budget and it makes sense to me, but angers me and I yell “Are you kidding? You’re stealing our furniture and props, we’re in the middle of a show!” but I’m running out to the back parking lot as I’m yelling, and I start to cry. Moving forward is more important than standing there and fighting.  My car is not in the back parking lot, though, it’s in the front lot, and I must run uphill to get it. Crying and angry and realizing I  have lost the waitress job, I run up the hill but it’s a nightmare hill, so the top never gets any closer. Then my feet get bogged down in the sidewalk and I can’t move, so I crawl. As I crawl the cement  rolls away from me, like loose carpeting, and I begin to scream and cry “God, can you give me a break? Can I just get a break, please? Help me!” and the crying becomes angry sobs as I continue to unsuccessfully make any progress to get anywhere.

Somewhere in my head I realize it’s 8 o’clock, and I should have stopped to talk to Judy. It wouldn’t have made any difference. I don’t stop trying to crawl and I imagine I’m making some miniscule progress. If I can get to the top, I think, I’m not getting in my car. I’m going to go talk with Judy. If I can just get there…

I scream again and wake up.

And topping off this crappy week we have....an audition story

   We got hit with nothing but car repair bills and medical bills this lovely week, and I was looking forward to my Saturday audition just to be distracted from  my financial realities. Also my career stall, but that's another story.
    I made the appointment back  in May, today is 1 July, and the notice said "all roles open", which I confirmed when I made the appointment. There are literally no other parts for me in this show, and frankly, I don't even like the show. This role just happens to be On My List. And, as I have said, I enjoy going back out there and reconnecting with the craft, while ignoring how much I hate the business. The last few auditions have been very positive, everyone is supportive and kind, or at least neutral and not cold. After such a nasty week, and knowing I did not actually have a shot at this gig as it rehearses during the day, I fantasized that they would offer it to me and I would have to decline. Or I would get brave and quit teaching so I could do it. One must have hope, right? Anyway, I nonetheless dutifully printed a color head shot, made up a resume* , found a song and put makeup on my face.
    I then drove 45 minutes on  day that I cannot really afford the gas (see above "car repair and medical bills") but I was feeling positive. My song is solid, I know I'm right for the part, it's a part I've wanted since 1982, I know it's a mostly equity house and they rehearse during the day, but I need some positive, man. I need to feel like I have something to offer. My career does not afford me that and I crave positive reinforcement. And every time I've gone out over the last year, everyone has been kind and supportive. I know this will be a good experience, and that's what I signed up for.
    I arrive, after overshooting the theatre and having to U Turn. It's been years since I've auditioned here. I'm not technically a musical theatre kid so I rarely venture out to musical auditions.
    I make friends with the pretty late twenties young lady adjusting her character shoes who is nervous that they may make her dance, and the young man who is hopeful that they don't want him to sing his whole song. Both express their delight that all roles are open and that the notice did not have any dance needed. Again: nice people. I like this, nobody's mean or rudely competitive. We have no idea how good the other is until after the audition, when everyone in the lobby has heard your song. But even then I've noticed, nobody's mean or judgey.
    I am escorted in. Director, Choreographer, Stage Manager, Accompanist and various others that nobody felt I needed to be introduced to. OK, that's fine. Hi, I'm kryssi.
    The accompanist smiles warmly and shakes my hand, introducing herself. I give her my music and there we go. She smiles and says "good luck", which is bad luck, but whatever, she's the nicest one in the room. Very grandmotherly.
     I nail my song. Dude. Nailed. IT. I've never done "When You're Good To Mama" before, and I need to do it always, it's perfect. And when you nail it,  you know it. YES, good job, good experience, just what I needed. I can read a room, and it went very well.
     The director says "The role of (INSERT ONLY ROLE THAT IS AGE AND TYPE APPROPRIATE FOR ME IN THE WHOLE SHOW) has been cast. But...." he starts looking at my resume. "What is your dance experience?"
      I'm still trying to dissect that he didn't bother to email me and tell me the ONLY ROLE I'm right for is no longer available. I don't care why, I don't care if it was given to an equity actor, I care that I wasted my time on a beautiful Saturday afternoon to be told the role is not available and asked if I can dance.
      Also, he nailed my type immediately in the role. Meaning he knew my type and could have easily let me know it was cast before I drove 45 minutes to audition for him.
       I smile without sarcasm. "I teach tap to my intro kids." You wanna know my dance experience? That's it for 20 years.
       Silence. I stand there. Maybe they haven't really looked at me. For God's sake I practically limped up the three stairs to the stage due to my arthritic feet. I look like I need a walker, not like I have years of dance experience.
      "We need strong dancers." He is rummaging through my one page resume as if there are invisible pages somewhere--volumes, perhaps, detailing my extensive dance experience with Alvin Ailey and Cleo Parker Robinson. Somehow it's impossible that someone with my experience and pipes cannot dance. If he can find my dance experience, he can call me back as ensemble. Because I can sing, and I can act, and they need me. And the role I'm clearly perfect for has already been cast. But they need me to dance also so they can use me. Where is that additional resume, kryssi, with your tap dance classes, your drop in times at Cleo, and your jazz and modern in college? All of which combined is your "extensive dance experience." Gimme a break. I am "Schleppy the Clown" for a reason.
     I laughed. Also, I'm thinking, why are you asking someone who came to a singing audition if they can DANCE?  Singing only auditions are for leads, that's how it works. Look at me, dude. Do you not have eyes? Do I look like I dance? I look directly at the choreographer.  "I'm what you people call a 'mover.' I can be taught, I can, I have," and as every clown should do at this moment, I execute a time step. "I'm not a strong dancer, no. I'm not your kid."
       I choose to let it go. I can be mad or I can go home. I keep smiling  and say "Thanks. I'm coming back in after 20 years, thanks for the opportunity." And they all smile back and say "You nailed it."
       Fuck you and your sympathy for the sad old woman.
       UGH.
       'cause I DID nail it, I was awesome, that's my part bitches, you missed your chance. I'm just not a dancer. No shame in that.
       I descended the stairs without falling down and breaking a hip, and as I reached for my music the accompanist stopped me. "You're Kryssi from Littleton, right? Kmart? I was an AP at Arapahoe." I smile and am nice, because she is nice, but I have no memory of ever meeting this woman. And she does not look like a retired AP, she looks like a grandma. I wonder if I look as old as she does? Would they ask her if she has dance experience? Her gray hair and wrinkled face are looking at me for acknowledgement of some kind, so I smile and say "Yes, I'm kmart from Littleton." And again I'm struck by how small this town remains, even though I'm 45 minutes from home and an hour from Littleton, even in the face of the massive population explosion, theatre remains small.
        I realize as I exit the house that if this show had been a scheduling possibility for me, that if I wasn't teaching full time, I would have lied. I would have lied my face off, made my minimal dance sound maximal and worried about the truth at the callback. Because I'm an actor, and I can be taught. I can, I have. But there was no sense in lying when I really can't do the show in the first place.
        On my way out of the theatre, my young friend with the character shoes stops me. "You sounded so great! Did it go well?"
        "I thought so, but it was a waste of my time. (INSERT ONLY ROLE THAT IS AGE AND TYPE APPROPRIATE FOR ME IN THE WHOLE SHOW) is already cast." I smile and shrug.
        The color drains from her face. I know from her type she was not auditioning for the same role as I, but if they've cast mine, they easily could have cast the one she was hoping for as well. Nothing kills your confidence like being misled. I told her to break a leg and left the building, sad that I may have caused her any grief. It's possible mine was the only role they precast. It's possible all the leads were precast. It's likely I won't be auditioning there again.
        This exact behavior is why I retired 20 years ago. It's frustrating when they hold auditions out of town, it's frustrating when they only hold local auditions so they can check the box that says "held local auditions" but they never use local actors, or only use them in smaller roles. It's frustrating when they precast and hold auditions, anyway. It's rude guys. All of this is rude behavior. If you don't believe in the talent this town holds, then stop inviting us to your auditions. Cast all of your shows out of New York. It's more honest that way. At least we are not given any false hope.
        So I came home and took a nap. Because I suddenly felt really old.
     

    * The issue is that it's been years, I can't remember all the shows. So under "special talents" I write "Forgetting everything that should be on this resume."