Moral Dilemma

It's been a long time since I got an audition. In fact, it's been so long that when I was offered one this week, I instantly presumed it was a trick. Some poor filmmaker who I'd mocked on Twitter had found out who I was and was now seeking revenge. I'd be lured to a church hall and would be slowly diced up with copies of The Stage. But finally, reminding myself that going to auditions is supposed to be a massive part of my job, I reluctantly convinced myself that it was genuine.

I got there this morning, so embarrassingly early that if I'd turned up in a pony and trap while wearing a ruff and tossing tuppence to a street urchin, I wouldn't have looked at all out of place. I got to the venue and, as usual, the instructions were ridiculous. Getting into an audition venue has always been a problem of mine. Maybe it's the universe trying to save me from the inevitable humiliation that's about to take place but doors are not my strong point. If it says 'push' then I 'pull' and if it says 'no entry' then I walk in anyway. And, to top it off, when people organise auditions, they put the most confusing instructions possible to get actors to the right place. I've seen ones with hastily scrawled maps, ones written in the faintest pencil possible and I've even had one tell me that the venue is no longer in use to actors should make their way to the local McDonalds round the corner where they'll be auditioning instead.

Today's instructions decided to go for the written explanation. About five different directions were written on a piece of paper that Commander Hadfield could've photographed from space. After first attempting to get into a shed, I finally realised I was surrounded by younger, prettier versions of myself and knew I was in the right place. My name was ticked off the list and I was handed a script to look over.

Now, I only vaguely knew what I was going up for. I hadn't actually applied for this job so when they invited me, they told me a little bit about what it was for without any real specifics. So, I started to read the script and I soon realised that this was promoting something that I really don't agree with. You don't need to know what it is but I suppose it's similar to a vegan finding themselves auditioning bacon grease slicked roast chickens. And, to top it all off, the script was horrible. There was spelling mistakes, unnecessary abbreviations and instead of stage directions, they'd used emoticons. It was horrible. And then an actress walked in demanding to be seen next. And then more actors came in, all through the wrong door despite the biggest sign the world has ever seen and I started to wonder whether I need anger management assistance.

Pushy actress was seen next and after the entire world's schedule was turned upside down just because she can't organise her diary properly, I was finally seen. I was greeted by a panel including a man who I'm sure isn't a stranger to wicker pants and stirring his dandelion tea with incense sticks. After a little chat, we went over the script a couple of times and that was great. I was then asked to try out some accents and I'm sure I managed to offend maybe half the world's population in record-breaking time. I was then filmed on their phones and probably put up on Instagram and it was all over. I was thrown back out into the world knowing I'd done a decent audition and having to battle the odd sensation of not wanting to get the job.

It's typical. I've waited months for an audition and now, after finally bloody getting one, it's for something that I don't agree with. Of course, they might've thought I was awful and my fretting is all for nothing. The phrase "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it" has been used a lot today. But still, however :-( it made me, I should be :-) to have been seen at all.