I was late.
As usual.
And not in the pregnancy scare kind of way.
I was late for my audition at Warner Brothers Studios.
I love that I can write that sentence.
I had an audition at Warner Bros Studios!
For The Big Bang Theory on CBS!
CBS!
On a TV show my grandpa has actually heard of. Finally, he wouldn’t have to utter his famous line (after seeing another confusing piece of theater his granddaughter was in.) “Well, I didn’t understand it but I support you.”
So as I gunned my little Toyota Yaris into the parking garage of Warner Bros I was prepared.
I had thought of everything. My lines were memorized, my character was analyzed, even my dress was perfect.
Perfect, and sweat-stain free.
Let me explain.
Earlier that day, as I stood in my pre-planned outfit reciting my lines, I noticed my short-sleeved dress highlighted an unfortunate occurrence of my rising nerves:
Sweaty Arm Pits.
Well, that just wouldn’t do.
I had to think on my feet. My audition was two hours away and I still needed to rehearse at least five hundred more times! I couldn’t let an annoying body function ruin my chances at getting this role!
So I did what any self-respecting, eager, young actor would do.
I improvised.
I dug through my bathroom drawer and found the perfect tool to stop the sweating.
Maxi-Pads.
In the armpits of my dress.
Before you judge me, let’s remember that these things are advertised for their moisture-locking protection!
It was the perfect, fail-proof plan!
As I checked in, got a visitor’s badge (which I later had mounted and framed,) and ran onto the lot I was confident.
I was ready.
I had moisture-free armpits!
I smiled at maintenance crew, spoke to a security guard, and joked with a producer. Every person I saw was my new best friend. I was on top of the world!
A few minutes before my audition I stopped in the bathroom to do a final check.
Teeth – check!
Hair – check!
Make-up – check!
Armpits -
I stopped.
Armpits!
OH. LORD.
There, hanging out of a sleeve of my dress was a bright pink maxi-pad.
I just stood there, staring at myself in the mirror.
Not even at a big audition, on a glamorous movie lot, can I pull it together.
At these kinds of auditions you see a lot of different types of girls. There are the girls that always smell great. The girls that always have the perfect make-up. The girls that always have the perfect hair.
And then there’s me.
The girl who has feminine protection hanging out of her armpits.
I have stains on my dress, runs in my tights, and chips in my nail polish (who am I kidding, I don’t even wear nail polish.) I’m over-sensitive, too hard on myself, and I care too much what other people think.
But I’m here, dammit.
I’m here.
I’m in LA, doing what I promised myself I would do.
And it can suck. Hard.
But it can also be really great.
Like that one time I had maxi-pads hanging out of my dress but still got a callback.
In case you were wondering.
