Two weeks ago, I auditioned to be in a commercial for the local jetport. I read for the role of "Mother Taking Children to Disney World." I ended up with the part of "Well-Dressed Business Woman." Since, having never been a business woman, and if you read yesterday's entry, I am no longer well-dressed, finding an outfit as well as channeling this character was a challenge.
Today's biz culture is all about Casual Friday and teleconferencing, so I figured as long as I looked appropriate from the waist up, I was golden. I managed to find a somewhat pressed Pink shirt and Banana Republic linen blazer. I didn't want to wear a skirt because A) who flies wearing a skirt? B) I hadn't waxed my legs nor spray tanned and I wasn't going to be on TV looking like an albino porcupine.
As I was getting my make-up done, the director came in to "approve my wardrobe." He took one look at me and asked what other options I brought. My instinct was to tell him that since the advent of TiVo, no one watches commercials anyway so as long as I looked decent in fast-forward mode, I was fine with that. Rather, I blinked deliberately and said, "Oh, has my girl not brought the rack in yet? She must be held up at security."
The only "could potentially pass for work pants" I had were way too big, so I had, McGruber style, custom tailored them with a clever rigging including duct-tape. This was fine until the sound guy attempted to fit my microphone pack onto the waist band and witnessed a small landslide of bobby pins.
My scene was shot as I sat at the airport bar (realistic), reading the Wall Street Journal (unrealistic), drinking plain iced tea (very unrealistic). I told them I would feel more genuine drinking gin, as I usually do when frequenting airport bars, but my requests were ignored. So much for method acting.
I read my lines flawlessly and was done in time to get home before naptime was over. If only all those bobby pins taped to my ass hadn't set off the metal detector I would probably be home right now finishing off a gin martini rather than sitting here trying to convince security I have no grand plans with all the bits in my pants.