For a brief wrinkle in time, I thought that I could cut it as an actress, I even thought that I could possibly swing some print work, too. During this wrinkle- I managed forget that I was 5′7” (too short for any type of modeling), had acne, and only took one acting class- yet, I knew it was my destiny to share Appletinis with the semi-famous, and get paid stupid amounts of money to pretend for a living. I wanted more than anything to see my face plastered across a billboard, laughing about something inane like how much I loved Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes.
I had indulged in my acting desires in little smatters here and there through out my formative years, but didn’t reach my delusional heights until I entered my junior year of college,when a sorta kinda friend of mine reeeally wanted me to act in his freaky student production odyssey. I declined, I declined, and I declined… until he used one of the best tactics ever: He told me quite nonchalantly, “I’m not even sure I want to cast you… just audition.” This extracted my deep bullheaded nature… and was determined to get cast.
I got one of the leads. Not only was I playing a man, I had to climb a huge wooden structure, speak gibberish, and flip back a forth between acting drunk and sober- did I mention that the play was 3 hours long? Majority of which I was on stage doing something weird like scratching my imaginary balls.
The role was demanding, but I think I pulled it off. As it turned out, the play was the first production on the west coast, so the national authority/scholar of the Polish playwright of my freaky college play decided to come check it out. He also happened to be a professor at Yale (lift your pinkies please) and wrote an essay on our production in the Yale Review(lift both your pinkies please). Surprise, surprise dear old me was mentioned, and get this… in a positive light! In co-hoots with my mention in the (ahem, ahem) Yale Review, I earned a little recognition from many of the drama students who were forced to go to see the play for class.
Needless to say, all this attention made me think I was hot shit on a platter.
After my debut, I continued to act steadily throughout the remainder of my college career- gathering a collection of incredibly enlightened roles:
A Drunkard
A Spider
A Prostitute
The wife of man who sees gremlins
With these glimmering gems on a resume- I decided to half-ass pursue a sorta career in acting after I graduated from college. Headshot in hand, I submitted my goods to talent agencies across California, and one by one they all returned. I didn’t care, still high off my two year acting buzz I signed up for extra work with two casting companies. I got two jobs- funky black girl at the party and funky black girl riding the trolley. I say “funky” because while being styled at the first shoot- the very glittery clothing lady screamed upon my entrance, “You’re Funk-ay!” It was these two shoots which ultimately decided my fate as an actress/professional extra… it wasn’t gonna happen, because:
Actors are really annoying.
And
Production staff are really grumpy because they have to deal with actors.
Yes, yes… I should have know actors were really annoying having spent a large amount of time cavorting with them while in school- but an actor-student vs. an actor-actor are two entirely different beast. Actor-Students can be bitchy and back stabby, but they aren’t getting paid for being tree number 2 in a student written/student directed project. When you add money and national exposure into the project- tree number 2 turns into a role that needs to be carefully explained and given a backstory as to fully give credit to the existence of our arbor brethren.
This is what I gathered from my limited experience as an extra- we were basically elaborate props, but somehow, I always managed to find myself engaged in some form of shop conversation about who my agent was (no one), what projects I was currently involved in (um… library school…), and if I was union. This shit wasn’t friendly either… each question was a stab, followed by their answer, which always one upped mine. The more time I spent with these people, over ten hours each shoot, the more I wanted to pulls my eyeballs out of my ass. The worst part was, I had to pretend I actually liked these people while the camera was rolling- making the situation that more schizophrenic.
Me: So have you been acting for long?
Dude: yea, you know I’ve been working with Blah-Blah-Blah Agency for like 3 years, and they’re thinking about putting me into some modeling, and I’m really excited about my future prospects… you?
Me: yea I sta-
Dude: That’s cool, ever since I was little I wanted do this, but right now I’m just trying to see where it takes me…
Me: right on… I wa-
Dude: hey who represents you?
Me: No one…
Dude: oh.
ACTION
Dude: weeeee! Fuuuun!
Me: Yaaaaaay! This is GREAT!!!!!!!
CUT
Dude: um…
Me: yeeeaaa…
By the end of the shoot- I would find myself at the food table gorging on all the ridiculous crap, or standing as far away from everyone as I could… I had more fun standing in the corner eating Fritos, than talking to the vapid camera hogs on the other side of the room.
I have to admit- not everyone was a jerk, but unfortunately when I viewed each of the spots I was paid to participate in, the Jerk-O McJerk-Jerks who forced their way in front of the camera and conducted self involved conversations were prominently featured, while I think I might have seen the side of my blurry shoulder at one point during the 30 second commercial. I’m not cut throat, and if the barrel scrapping, bottom of the food chain Extra has to be hardcore… maybe the acting world isn’t my way of achieving international super stardom.