Sunday, 8 January 2012


I realise I've spoken about agents before. I'm aware that I have mentioned before just how useless the one agent I've had was. He was about as useful as my voicereel is (in the four years that I've had it, it's secured me one quite poorly paid job.) His accent meant that I rarely knew what I was going up for and he understood the acting industry about as well as I understand anything written in the FT. His frustrating behaviour meant that I had several arguments with him, the worst being via text while I was at a dull day job. I'd promised to cover for a friend and I was in desperate need of the money to pay for my Spotlight membership so there was absolutely no way that I was backing out of this. But of course, because Sod is in charge of all laws, my agent's assistant rang at 7pm the night before telling me that I had a casting the next day. I explained that I was working a morning shift tomorrow and that the notice they'd given me wasn't enough to get out of it. She totally understood and said the morning slot was the only one available so I carried on with my productive evening of eating economy cheese and wondering how to make a buck out of my ever-increasing pile of agency rejection letters. The next day, while at work, my phone buzzes. It's my agent trying to phone me but I'm working for the one man less understanding than my agent and am unable to answer. A voicemail is left and I'm forced to crawl under the desk to listen to it. It's my agent telling me that I need to be at the audition and that I should be wearing a blue shirt. While crouched under the desk and keeping one eye on my bosses door, I text him back. The following text conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi. I'm really sorry but I'm unable to attend the audition. I explained to (Miss Useless Assistant) that I'm working and couldn't get out of it. She said that was fine. Sorry for any mixup caused.

Him: I'd like you to find a way to go to the audition. We've changed your audition slot 1pm (it was 12.30 and I was a good 40 minutes away.)

Me: I'm sorry but I can't just leave. Even if I could, I wouldn't be able to make it in time and I don't have a blue shirt with me nor do I have the money to buy one on the way.

Him: You need to decide what it more important to you. You've put me in a very compromising position with a very important casting director. I'm not happy about this at all.

After this I decided to leave things before I pointed out that he'd previously failed to contact me for a whole six months and that I was currently spending all my free time desperately trying to get with any other agency just so I could be away from them. I emailed him an apology when I got home and he said sorry for being the meanest man in the West and we carried on our unfulfilling professional relationship for another year. 

When we did finally part ways, they said they would be happy to take me back should I want to return and I have to admit that those parting words have stuck with me. Over the last couple of months as I struggle to find representation. I've been wondering whether I should just cast my pride aside and go back with them. However, this email I found earlier from them is a glorious reminder as to why I would never return...

Reece Witheredspoon  and Jake Gyllenhall wants to know if you speak Arabic, so , do you and if so to which level?

I think I might be best on my own for now...

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