The Audition
“Are you getting too thin?” the agent asks from a small, windowless office, where beautiful faces hang, poster sized, all beaming, pouting, posing.
“Too thin?” the model repeats, reaching for her Louis Vuitton tote. “Um, I don’t think so. But thank you! I tried on a bathing suit the other day. I was by myself and ugh, I laughed at what I saw!”
“Don’t get too thin,” the agent replies, squinting his eyes. “And that hair color…”
“I know,” she says nervously, shaking strands dark at the roots that fade into blonde at the ends, curling just above the shoulders in a flirty bob.
“Who did it?”
“My regular girl.”
“Hairstylists,” he groans. “They all think they’re going to do you favors, do something fun. No. It never works.”
“I know,” she replies.
“Anybody your age… no offense, but if you’re covering gray you need to do it naturally.”
“I know,” she says, nervously touching her crown with perfectly manicured fingers. “It’s just… I’ll go back to my usual color. Probably in a few weeks.”
“Do that,” he advises.
“Yeah,” she says as she walks out the door. “I definitely will.”
“Just two minutes, I promise,” says one of the assistants as he hurries by a black leather couch where people are waiting. “Which audition are you here for?”
“KitchenAid,” replies the actress.
A few minutes later, he motions for her to follow him down a narrow, dark hallway and into a small room with brown, commercial grade carpeting. There is one umbrella light flanking a camera that’s been retrofitted with a teleprompter and an “x” marked on the floor with masking tape. In front of the “x” is a metal push cart, on top of which sits a blue pen.
“Hide your eyes,” he advises as he switches on the light. “Okay, ready? Pick up that pen there, that’s going to be your knife. We don’t give talent real knives anymore.”
“Is that since your commission went up to twenty percent?” she asks.
“Haha right?” he asks, adjusting the light. “Okay, so here’s the deal for this one: you’re in the kitchen, that’s your knife, and you’re cutting vegetables, but you can pretend that the kids are running around. You know, busy mom, crazy kids, and all that. But not like, ‘I want to fucking kill these kids!’ More like, ‘Oh, darn these kids.’”
“Got it,” she replies, picking up the pen.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah,” she replies.
“Okay, go!”
“As a mom of three kids, I have a lot of responsibilities. And not much time. But my KitchenAid appliances make all my kitchen tasks SO much easier and faster.”
“Whoa!” he says. “Way too fast. Slow it down next time.”
“Okay,” she replies, picking up the pen and pretending to slice.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yep.”
“Okay, go!”
“As a mom of three kids…I have a lot of responsibilities…and not much time. But my KitchenAid appliances make all my kitchen tasks SO much easier… and faster.”
“Okay, that was better, but don’t talk so much with your shoulders,” he says. “You keep bringing them forward. More relaxed. And you can stop cutting as soon as you start your lines. Otherwise, it looks like you’re rowing a boat. And don’t look away from the camera so much. If your eyes are going up and down and over here and over there, you look like a crazy person. Other than that, you’re nailing it!”
“Got it,” she says, picking up the pen again.
“As a mom of three kids…I have a lot of responsibilities…and not much time. But my KitchenAid appliances make all my kitchen tasks SO much easier… and faster.”
“Better. But don’t put so much emphasis on the word ‘so.’ It’s not ‘SO much easier.’ It’s ‘so much easier.’ And slower. And not so loud. If you were talking to someone standing on the other side of the counter, you wouldn’t be talking so loudly like, ‘I’M A BUSY MOM.’ Got it?”
“Got it,” she replies, picking up the pen.
“As a mom of three kids…I have a lot of responsibilities…and not much time. But my KitchenAid appliances make all… Uh. Oh, damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I forgot my line,” she replies.
“Want to do it again?” he asks.
“Yeah,” she says, picking up the pen again.
“As a mom of three kids… I have a lot of responsibilities… And not much time… But my KitchenAid appliances make all my kitchen tasks so much easier… and faster.”
“That’s it. Yep! I really like that one,” he says, turning off the camera. “I knew you’d nail it. Okay, so what’s your name again?”
Kate Benz has been a professional writer for the past fifteen years with bylines appearing in The Tribune-Review, Pittsburgh Magazine, Table Magazine, Pittsburgh Quarterly, and LOCAL Pittsburgh Magazine. She is also the author of an "Images of America" book on the history of Cranberry Township. When she is not writing, you can find her thoroughly enjoying a co-dependent relationship with her dog or taking long, romantic walks down the makeup aisle.
