The job the job the job was BORING. What can I say? I was
placed in a room with a few other odd balls- actors mainly. Though one guy
actually seemed to do this for a living. We
sat on the phone all day ringing up clients and promoting the magazine and
inviting them to the event at The Dorchester Hotel, a dinner and award ceremony
for which there was no doubt a hefty price tag. I plugged away. Meanwhile my
agent phoned me about a new show that was coming to the West End called ‘Bat
Boy’ in addition to an audition for the part of Carmen in ‘Fame’ which was
already in town.
Every night I rushed home to commit yards of script and music
to memory. The 'Bat Boy' auditioning process was endless. First round was with
the casting director and the musical director. Second round and a choreographer
appeared. Third round and some American producers were flown over. Fourth round
and I was knackered. The final round was in RADA my old stomping ground of UCL
days. Here I was auditioning in the place which had inspired me years ago as a
view from my window I sang and acted my little socks off to the scary row of
Americans sat in a semi-circle filling up half the studio. It was tricky
vocally and pretty high but I had practised it for ever and a day. I knew that
by this stage there were only two or three of us to choose from.
Once it was all over I felt sort of deflated and thought that
I may as well go back to work and then go home and brood. The waiting to hear
game began. 'Fame' was a non-starter as although I was recalled they kept saying
things like:
‘Remember when you were a teenager? How would you have said that line?’
Okay.
I get the hint.
I’m too old.
Fair enough.
But with 'Bat Boy' I
thought I was in with a chance. Even though I was up against a very successful
pro. I was 32. I looked 25. I felt 96.
When the call came one sunny London morning to say that they
had ‘gone another way’ with the casting of 'Bat Boy' I was indescribably
disappointed. It was June. Money was really really
too tight to mention.
Then something funny happened. My sister had finished her
degree at Manchester University in the summer of 2004. She wanted to try her
luck as an actress also and unbeknown to me had looked up a part time job in
the back of the stage. At the same time my boss told me that a new girl was
coming to work for him the following day. Then my sister told me she had found
a job. And yup she duly turned up fresh as a daisy in my rubbish temp job in
the city.
She then proceeded to let my boss know that the job was a bit
rubbish (which it was) and proceeded to get the sack.
Before I too left the publishers to their own devices I
attended the Award dinner at the Dorchester. One, it was an excuse to get very
dressed up and two there was a huge three course meal and as much booze as you
could consume. All I had to do was slink about in a red dress guiding the
winners from the stage to their seats. Michael Portillo was the guest speaker.
He made a bee-line for our table and sat between me and a pretty back actress
who also temporarily worked for the company.
‘So!’ He enthused. ‘What do you ladies do?’
‘Well,’ I said ‘I’m probably going to be disappoint you when
I say that we are actors hired to help sell the company.’
He did look
disappointed. But requested a photo opportunity with him. He wanted us to be
either side of him holding up a copy of the magazine. And smile! It’s not every
day you get to be a political satellite.
It was at this point that a friend of mine Mary came up with
another temp job that I could do which might prove more lucrative-work as a
lettings agent in an Islington Estate Agents office. I said ‘yes’ immediately
and duly rang the boss to arrange to meet him. I rang and rang and rang and
rang and finally we met. This job would involve showing flats to students and
young professionals in and around the Islington area but the perk of the job
was that audition time was allowed so Mary and I could go off and do our
auditions and return to work afterwards and still get paid. Genius.
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