Auditions for my dream are tonight after work. Or perhaps I should say “auditions.”
I wasn’t able to go to the Information Session myself, so I sent Sharon’s husband, Tom, on a reconnaissance mission. Here’s roughly how the conversation went when he called to report his findings:
Tom: So let’s see… for the auditions, you don’t need to do anything special. She said it’s “come as you are.”
Laura: Okay, did she say what we’d be singing?
Tom: You don’t have to have a prepared piece. You just come, and then if you’re wanting one of the main parts, maybe you’ll sing something.
Laura: “Maybe?” Okay, weird. What else?
Tom: The first rehearsal will be a week from Sunday, from 7-9.
Laura: On a Sunday? Gah. Okay. And after that?
Tom: Well, they won’t decide on a schedule until they have a cast, and can find out what will work for everyone. I guess that’s everyone, isn’t it?
Laura: Oh great. They’re casting everyone who turns up for auditions and think they can coordinate all those schedules?
Tom: Haha. Yeah well, maybe just the main characters. She didn’t know when the cast list would be announced, because the director isn’t here yet. She’s coming into town some time next week.
Laura: Huh? So who’s running the auditions?
Tom: Maybe the music director? She’s a student from Black Hills State University.
Laura: This gets better and better.
Tom: So I think for the first few rehearsals the main characters will just be on their own, maybe work with the music director until the real director comes.
Laura: And show times?
Tom: First three weekends in May – Friday, Saturday and Sunday. The last weekend might depend on how many people came to the show on the other weekends though.
Laura: Okay, I’ll remind my family not to bring tomatoes. So let me just recap: I don’t need to prepare a song, and might not even have to sing.
Tom: Right. Oh, she did say they still need a Golde.
Laura: I can’t be Golde! I’m, like, 12! But say… I know someone else who could be a great Golde…
Tom: I think I know who you’re talking about. You’ll lean on her a little, right?
Laura: I’m working on it. Now wait a sec… if they still need a Golde, does that mean they’ve already picked the cast??
Tom: Uh… I don’t know. She just said they still need a Golde.
Laura: This is going to be the craziest play I’ve ever tried to be in. Thanks for all your help, Tom.
(My apologies to Tom… this conversation was completely reconstituted from memory about six hours after the fact.)
So let me recap again: the auditions are tonight, but I maybe don’t have to sing, and maybe there aren’t even any parts left to audition for, and it doesn’t matter much anyway because the director won’t even be there? This has the makings of an absolute disaster!
I’m trying to keep all this in perspective, because I really don’t want to audition, wind up a Villager, and be disappointed about that. I say I’d settle for anything, but in honesty, I’d like a real part. I’ve convinced myself over the last few days that I deserve a real part. But maybe it’s an Old Boys Club and the music director already knows everyone involved and has the cast list figured out before anyone even shows up. I’m sure not good enough to blow THAT sort of thing away. So! I hereby declare this an Experiment In Social Chaos, and promise not to be annoyed when I’m passed over for someone who will clearly have less talent than I do.