BANG

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.