That’s Not In The Script
I love my friend’s little boy. The Kid is three years old and knows he has me wrapped around his finger. The thing is, entertaining a three-year-old is exhausting! So, what do you do with a three-year-old full of energy on a fine Saturday afternoon? No, not the baby Benadryl. Moms seem to frown upon that. You enter him in a baby race, of course.
So there I was in Central Park on Saturday morning lining The Kid up with all the other three-year-olds at the starting line. I kept telling him that this race was for fun and he should enjoy it, there are no losers and all that other blah, blah, bullshit. Look, it’s fine if you want your child to be an impotent, underachieving, unpopular loser. My little friend, however, is in it to win it and so, although I was giving him useless platitudes just in case he turned out to be an utterly embarrassing failure, I also had him practice his Game Face along with important dignity-preserving statements like, “I let the Special Olympics kid win” and “It’s easy to run fast when you’re not burdened by all this handsomeness.” We may or may not have made other children cry. Pussies.
Standing at the starting line, I surreptitiously checked out the competition. I scoffed at the mom who had her kid in Baby Crocs. O rly? Even if you win this race (which you won’t) your kid loses. Baby Crocs! Humpft!!! And then I looked down at her feet. My. god. She had long, leathery, bony feet that stretched over the edges of her flip-flops like an old gator sunning on a rock. Really, her feet were overstuffed, cracked, vintage handbags. Her toes were aged ginger. If Dingo Girl had been there, I would not have been able to stop her from gnawing on those nasty feet. I quickly turned my head in the other direction but then I locked eyes with HIM. Oh, lord.
Back in my younger days I was doing quite a bit of work as an extra on films and television shows shot in my town. You may have heard of Chuck Norris and a little show called Walker, Texas Ranger. I was on the set as an extra almost every week. I excelled in the art of the fake, silent phone call made in the background of some lavish set. I am the veritable Robert DeNiro of this little known niche. For every take I’d create a different scenario. First, I’d be the Tearful Girlfriend. Face contorted in grief and despair, I’d conduct an entire conversation that started with an angry “You’ll never find another doormat as stupid as me!” and ended with me softly whispering, “So long, my love. Go now with God,” before wistfully hanging up the phone. And if you think it’s easy to convincingly portray intense emotion without uttering a single sound, you are sadly mistaken. My favorite was Glamour Girl, where I’d mouth words like “Lunch? Yes, I’d love to! Oh, but let me check my calendar,” while tossing my long flowing hair and flashing a toothy smile. But my fine acting skills went unnoticed. Until one day…
One day I got the call from my piece of shit agent that the casting directors wanted me to audition for a bit part in the show. They were looking for someone sexy and bold but sophisticated. They must have seen me in the background of last week’s episode when I was perfecting Phone Sex Operator! Once the excitement died down, panic set in. I was a naïve and not-so-worldly twenty-something. What did I know about sexy but sophisticated? Not a whole hell of a lot. Just out of college, I was a starving artist living in khakis and denim skirts (hey, it was the early nineties in Texas where denim never goes out of style!). I tell you what, the outfit I came up with makes me blush even to this day.
As I teetered into the casting studio on pleather Payless five-inch stilettos, I noticed the other women waiting to audition had taken a different fashion approach. One that did not involve looking like Jessica Rabbit trying to pay the rent in the red-light district. “I got this,” I thought. “These women aren’t even showing skin!” You know, if I’d spent more time paying attention to the show and less attention to the candy and sodas at the craft services tables, I’d have realized that Walker, Texas Ranger was a family-friendly show delivering heartwarming lessons week after week with a flying roundhouse followed by a tip of the hat. It was not Streetwalker, Sex Arranger.
So there I was in the room with HIM, the casting director. I started reading my lines at one end the room as I tried to walk seductively toward his desk at the other end. Seduction is difficult to pull off in towering pleather stilettos when you’re used to wearing Keds, but I soldiered on, skillfully masking my unsteady teetering with regular tottering, swinging and swaying like the Betty Boop float at the Macy’s Spanksgiving Day Parade. My voice low and husky, I whispered line after line because that’s what sexy women do, right? They whisper?
As I got closer to his chair my vision started to blur. What the —? My fake eyelashes had decided to become unglued and crawl down my face like hairy Wacky Wall Walkers. But I pressed on, my padded boobs like beacons leading the way to his desk. As I placed one hip against his desk and leaned precariously toward him, a wayward layer of eyelashes, having made its way to my chin, tumbled off my face and landed with a delicate splash in his coffee cup like a furry black fairy. Neither of us said a word. I racked my brain trying to cover my embarrassment without losing character. Although it felt like a lifetime, I’m sure it was only a few seconds before I heard myself whisper seductively, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t lash out at you like that.”
I wrapped up the scene moments later, proud of my ad-libbing and wondering if I would be able to contribute other lines of dialogue once I was cast for the part. I went home and waited for the phone to ring. And waited. And waited. And waited. All of this went through my mind in the mere seconds it took for him to smile and say, “Gorgeous day for a race, isn’t it?” Oh my god, he didn’t recognize me? I can’t explain why, but I found myself lowering my voice and whispering, “Yes, yes it is.” His eyes popped open wide but I was saved from further humiliation by the starting bell and everyone yelling, “Run! Run! Run!” And so, I did.
Posted on Monday, July 20, 2009 at 08:05 PM.
Tags: In The Neighborhood, I Hate Shopping, La Vida Loca
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Comments & Trackbacks
You always have the most awesome visuals in your posts.
Ha! You had me at “old gator sunning on a rock.” I’m going to send this to Angie to read-- she’ll love it.
Love the gnarly feet description… and I think that Ol’ Walker there shouldve been leading a drama llama!
I admire you for wrangling a 3 year old and living to tell about it.
But did you, er, he win?
You always make me smile Dingo. XX
Shoes are always important is the lesson to be learned here...or don’t wear false eyelashes.
I was reading about a new cream that you can put on your eyelid that is supposed to thicken your eyelashes. The trouble is that you can permanently damage your iris by using it...you ladies are funny.
hahahaha!! didn’t mean to lash out at you !! that’s the best thing ever!
“It’s easy to run fast when you’re not burdened by all this handsomeness” - Bwa, ha, ha! I’m totally going to use that!
I didn’t get the lash out at you until I read the comments. Seriously. I am slow.
And this is why I keep coming back. baby crocs-god save us all. Wait. Owen has a pair. Shit. Does it mean I can still make fun of those losers if i got his at the dollar store? Please, please tell me it does!
I DIDN’T MEAN TO LASH OUT AT YOU!
Oh lordie, Dingo, I just laughed so hard I had what my BFF calls “a laugh induced piddle sitch"…
oh man, justrun beat me to the “old gator sunning on a rock” - heehee, i snorted from that one. and why the hell do i not know about you being a professional extra? are you holding out on me? next thing you know, you’ll be telling us about the year you were a scuba instructor or that summer you spent organizing a revolution somewhere in central america.
I was in the elevator at work a while ago with a woman who wore sandals with croc feet in them… I know it’s judgemental but it looked awful.
And hey, isn’t running the answer to every awkward situation?
Kristina P. — Thanks!
justrun — Are you trying to tell me that Angie has gator feet?
MsDarkstar — I always have fun with The Kid but I also always need a nap after our playdates.
Ree — Let’s just say that I’ve submitted a revised diet and training program to his mother. I’m insisting on two-a-days and a high protein, low carb approach.
MTAE — Who needs irises when you can have thick, lovely lashes!
miss. chief — I thought it was a smooth recovery until a few years later when I realized that the whole scenario was mortifying. I’m a slow learner.
Jules — I think that phrase can be used in a variety of situations to great effect. Let me know how that works out for you.
k8 — Next time, I’ll include a set of explanatory graphics just for you.
kori — Owen will look fantastic in whatever you put him in. Just remember, that one day many, many, many years for now, he may be responsible for dressing YOU. Payback, my dear, payback.
Veronica — Piddle sitch? Hahahaha! I think you just gave me my own piddle sitch!
blakspring — My fear of fish will keep me from becoming a scuba instructor but I constantly urge my students to revolt.
Marjolein — Being judgmental is perfectly fine as long as you immediately blog about it so we can join in.
Wait-when did moms start frowning on the benadryl? Is it out of vogue already? Silas is only six! Should I move up to dextromethorphan?
Are khakis and denim skirts out of style now??? Ummmm...I’m asking for a friend.......
And that’s what I tell myself when I work out with Jillian, “It’s easy to do those routines when you’re not bogged down with all of this beauty!” Then I go get another Pudding Pop.
OMG that CANNOT be a true story. “Sorry to lash out at you?” That is too perfect. I’m going to hire you, just to sit in my kitchen and entertain me.
So your saying her feet looked herbal? Nice. What is this baby race you speak of? I have two babies which would ultimately up my our chances of winning. It sounds like a great idea to release a lot of baby energy.
“Sorry to lash out at you.” hahahaha. You’re wonderful.
Oh, and this mom doesn’t frown over drugging kids with Benadryl. Appropriate doses, of course! What?! My kids have allergies! 
LOL....great Post! Although I LOATHE Crocs, I have to admit I think they look slightly less-horrific on little kids.
Maybe partly because they didn’t buy them for themselves. Or maybe because - like ice cream on their faces in public - kids can get away with stuff adults can’t. 
omg that is hilarious!
Streetwalker, Sex Arranger- Hollywood needs to scoop that one up with the quickness!
I feel we have a big hit on our hands!
What?! They didn’t hire you after that artful display of grace under pressure? Well, their loss I say. Now I have to pay more attention to extras in shows, obviously it’s a crafted art that goes too often unnoticed.
Did he win the race or did you scoop him up in your panic while running away?
So, which episode were you in? I gotta set my TiVO.
I think you need to add a page to this site with your complete work history. We know you’ve been an extra, jumped horses and, as I recall, weren’t you a flight attendant at one point? Now I’m sure we all wonder what other careers you’ve partaken in…
(The word “work” is in my security verification. I think it’s a sign from above that I’m right on this one!)
So..... where’s the part where you tell us this was all a joke? Really, that happened? That is too funny. I’ll be laughing about that for a week. And I am so glad I wasn’t you. Trying to be seductive would be my worst nightmare; I’d never even get to the part where I was unappreciated. Lol.
It could have been the eyelash that made you lose the part, but if I had to bet, my money would be on your white legs + black arms. Granted it’s an interesting look, but even Chuck Norris gets scared sometimes.
“Lash out...!!!’ That’s hilarious. Can’t understand why that didn’t ace the audition for you.
Shania — Mom’s frown on Benadryl when you return their kid to them all sleepy and then they wake up at bedtime wanting to play and watch The Wiggles.
Jules — I think khakis and denim will always be in style in Texas. I had 100 variations of the denim wrap skit. I was kewl.
Prosy — Yes, true story. I’ll sit in your kitchen and entertain you. I have a great dress already picked out for the occasion.
Summer — You should check out baby races in your area. I think they should expand the festivities next year to include a baby swap. Wouldn’t that be fun?
AnnQ — I think they look less offensive on little kids because we are distracted by their big heads.
stealthnerd — These types of things are always funny when they happen to someone else.
Courtlynn — Since my acting career fizzled, maybe I have a future coming up with porn titles.
Toe — I don’t think they knew what to do with an actress of my caliber. I was too sexy for the small screen but not the very back of the small screen making fake, silent phone calls.
GeekHiker — Oh GH, we haven’t even touched the surface of my various adventures at gainful employment.
FreedomFirst — Unfortunately, I was the joke.
flurrius — Those are gloves! All ladies of the evening wear gloves. I was a high class call girl classy lady.
Tara R. — The part probably went to some tramp that gave him a blow job. I’ll wear pleather stilettos and inappropriate dresses but there are some things I just will NOT do. At least not for a part so small.
As always, I know I’m going to have fun when I visit here.
And um… you mean five inch pleather stilettos aren’t the height of fashion? NOW you tell me.
Remind me never to show you my feet.
A well placed pun saves any awkward situation.
How is it possible for one person to have so many embarrassing moments?
I once showed up to an audition for a beer commercial extra wearing an antique blue velvet evening dress covered with sequins. All the other students were in jeans and t shirts. Although it might have been my long frizzy pale purple hair that put them off…
Jen of a2eatwrite — I’ll try to keep you updated on appropriate fashion choices. Unfortunately, I always seem to be a season or two behind. I think everyone’s wearing pegged pants and neon tops now, right?
Mel Heth — You have gators sunning on a rock? Must be those runner feet.
Hillary — I’m sure I have many more embarrassing moments but I’m just immune to most embarrassment now. As you can see, I had to reach waaaay back in time for this one.
rosie — Nothing wrong with an antique velvet blue sequined dress for a beer commercial audition, especially if it was for Miller, the champagne of beers.
I pictured everything in my head as clear as the summer day and was laughing so hard i actually startled my sleeping dog! hilarious and very clever - “I shouldn’t lash out on you like that!”
I think I may have played a cow in a manger scene in grade 2...may have been a bush. I was amazing!
freeteyme — If only he appreciated a good pun as well as you do!
G — Of course you were amazing! I’m sure you gave a very moo-ving performance. Hahahahaha!
Is there anything that you haven’t done? Hysterical!
having been on a million auditions I sooooooo get this. I could tell you stories boy, ay, yay, yay.
Once again, laughed my ass off.
I didn’t know you “starred” in Walker Tx Ranger? Chuck is BA! I do remember you landing a role in a Chili’s commercial. Remember when you borrowed my “cowgirl” crazy colored vest to go to an audition. You didn’t get that gig either.
Tress — Someone once told me that you have to do a lot of things you don’t like to do to find the things that you do like to do. So far, becoming a world class figure skater and competitive eating are the only things left on my list.
jessica — I can’t even imagine auditioning in LA. Brutal, brutal, brutal. You have some cojones, my friend.
MissGnomer — If we were to list all the parts I didn’t get, we’d be here all night. But thanks for letting me borrow your bad luck vest.
Everything comes full circle at the oddesst times, yes? And, if we ever meet in person I so am not wearing flip flops (called slippahs over here) as my feet are a bit on the leathery lizard side…
Wow. Just...wow.
LOL! That’s hilarious! I would’ve NEVER have been able to come up with something on the spot like that. Brilliant.
Today,in one of my favorite books, mastery was defined “as a series of trials that are to make you what you are as intensely as possible.” You, my friend, are a master storyteller. That was a de-lash-ious story. Er.
Pseudo — You live in Hawaii! Soak those feet in coconut oil!
Reagan — Yep. I bet that’s exactly what he was thinking.
Rachel — He was not that impressed. Or maybe as a child he had a traumatic experience with Wacky Wall Walkers and was at a loss for words.
O’Mama — Not only do you flatter me but you used a pun. I love you.
I have no words. Brilliance, Dingo. You’re pure brilliance.
Oh! That’s hysterical! Ah, 20 year old selves, what were we thinking?
April — Hi, April! I find that bad puns are suitable for every occasion. So, next time you are at a loss for words, try being punny! See!
Allie — My not even close to 20-year old self wants to go back and shake my 20-year old self.
Masterful storytelling. The picture is awesome, too. I love how you’re tripping that kid.
Streetwalker, Sex Arranger would be an awesome show, BTW. I’m sure that, every now and then, Streetwalker, Sex Arranger could also find room in its plot for a flying roundhouse followed by a tip of the hat.
My God, I love how you paint a scene. You did NOT really say, “I didn’t mean to lash out at you like that.” . did you? Awesome.
stoogepie — That kid was obviously cheating. I was just leveling the playing field.
Margaret (Nanny Goats) — Yes, unfortunately I did. It haunts me, god, how it haunts me.