NoSalesTax

Two Elon alumni (2002) have pooled their talents to bring excitement and joy to your day. One is a classy woman who combines her Italian and feminine powers to influence men of all shapes and sizes. The other is a tall blond man who relies on wit and boyish good looks to impress women, especially when they're drunk. Join them in their epic pursuit of the phenomenon known as adulthood. NoSalesTax side effects may include addiction and abrupt laughter as colleagues look on in confused jealousy.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Keep your vagina, I don’t want it.

It’s a hard word to say, an even harder word to write. That’s part of the reason why I auditioned for the Vagina Monologues. Why should we call it other names? Why should we be embarrassed about our own? And why shouldn’t I use my very outdated acting skills to win a part in a play that exposes it’s audiences to this most important movement?
A local organization was producing the Vagina Monologues, and put out a call for volunteers to act and help with publicity. So all last week I reviewed the script. I picked a part to audition with, I mostly memorized it (though we would be reading off cards at the audition) and I tried to really understand what the writer meant, while also really giving it my own meaning and flair.
On Saturday morning I woke up and put on some “audition clothes” (obligatory black sweater and jeans….very twisted soul, artsy-artist kinda look) and headed to the public library where I would meet the competition. I stopped at Starbucks on the way and thought it a “sign” when they were brewing my favorite coffee- Sumatra. I meant to order a grande, but ordered a venti by mistake….or is that vice versa? Anyway, I ended up with a giant cup. I headed over to the library I sat down next to a girl I have met before and we chatted a little before the auditions started.
I drank some of my giant coffee and when I started to sweat (anxiety? Nerves? Heavy black sweater?) I put the cup down by my feet and listened to the other women read. Each one gave a piece of themselves to the part, each one recited monologues slightly different. I think that’s the meaning of the show- every woman, every voice. All stories we can relate to and appreciate.
So the girl next to me was called. She got up, and as she walked down the aisle, she kicked my giant coffee over and it spilled all over the feet of one of our aisle mates. Unfortunately for her, she was wearing very open high heels and her feet got drenched with scalding hot coffee. The three of us jumped up, ran to get towels, and wiped down the feet and the floor. The woman running the auditions did not looked amused at a) the coffee b) the spill or c) me trying to joke to lighten up the situation.
So after we got the coffee cleaned up and my neighbor read her part, it was my turn. I felt like I did a very nice job. I solicited a few laughs out of the audience and I felt very comfortable up there. I felt I read it like rehearsed and from the heart. When I finished up, the women running the auditions (who was earlier giving a scowl at the coffee mishap) said thank you everyone, I will contact you tonight to let you know if you got a part or not.
I waited, and I waited, and here it is, 5 days later, and I STILL haven’t heard from her. I am assuming this means I did not get a part. I emailed her Monday to find out the status, volunteer to help with production or publicity and to just say thanks for letting me audition…..and NOTHING.
All I can figure is that I’m just not cool enough. Maybe I didn’t read well and I am okay with that (I would never claim to be a professional) but I’m pretty sure the coolness factor had something to do with it, too.
How sad- you try to get involved in a good cause, and the cause doesn’t even want your lousy vagina.

2 Comments:

At 2:48 PM, Blogger J-Mazz said...

I'm not even gonna write the obvious inappropriate comment.

 
At 3:26 PM, Blogger Emiole said...

I want your lousy vagina

 

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