Walking Into A Horror Movie
I don't have an agent.
I want an agent.
How else will I get to audition for products (birth control, razors, tampons, and yogurt) that I should so perfectly be selling on TV?
Three years ago I did mailings to several agencies and heard nothing. I did a showcase at NYU a few months later and heard nothing. I got a few referrals to agencies. Still, NOTHING.
So here I am, July 2012, doing another mailing, but this time I'm for real about it.
In a series of very calculated moves over the course of a month, I presented myself to a handful of agencies. On this particular day, I was to do "the dropoff."
For the non-actors out there, it means I would drop off a packet to the office. As in drive around town, park, go up the elevator, and actually speak to someone. In person.
I am dressed in my best clothes. My makeup and hair is perfect. I am nervous. I am sweating. I am parched.
The first office I go into has no one at the front desk. Hmmm. I do, however, see a sharply dressed gentleman in another room, yelling into his headset. Yes, he has a headset. The same kind of headset Britney Spears or Janet Jackson might have on when they're on stage.
He's cussing profusely. He's so angry! I'm so nervous! What should I do? I wait, because I know he will address me when he finishes his rant. A few more seconds go by...
I aimlessly look around the room. A black leather couch, a computer, a coffee table, magazines...
He gets off the headset and comes into the waiting area. "What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to drop this off for _____."
"Leave it on the desk."
"Ok, thank you!"
"Wait, is there a reel in there? A DVD?"
"Yes, it's a packet of my materials."
"No, no. (Reaching into my packet and retrieving my DVD, he hands it back to me.) Don't ever send a hard copy of your reel! Even my most famous actresses don't do that! What matters is what you look like, as I can see right here, and if we decide to bring you in, how you read."
"Okay. Thank you." .... "And your name, sir?"
HE WAS THE AGENT I WAS SUBMITTING MYSELF TO. ! ($NFOAI@OW*RHY%PRK!!!!!!!!)
OMG. WOW. This is like a scene from a movie. Of course he would be the guy I want to speak to, and of course he would sort of b**** me out about giving him a hard copy of a reel. I'm embarrassed to say the least.
I walked out. I have not heard from him, nor do I want to. If that's what agents are like in this town, I will happily stay unrepresented!
Photo by Deborah Wald