Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Am I a turd?

That's the question I asked my agent today. She said no, but I felt a little like one.

Frustrating day. The computer's down again -- it has motherboard issues. (Don't we all?) Or maybe it's the AC adaptor. Either way, it can't hold a charge. We won't know until the tech guy who called at 10 am FINALLY gets his ass here. Or rather, next door, at home, where my computer is.

So that's when the turd issue came up. At the Internet cafe, trying to fulfill various client obligations, the phone rings and I'm hoping it's Dell. Instead it's an agent. Telling me about an audition tomorrow for some medical thing.

"They want you in your boxers -- is that okay?" Uhhhh, I guess ... "How's your chest? Is it hairy? It can't be too hairy." Huh, uh no, not too hairy. Wait, they want me stripped all the way down to my boxers? "Uh-huh."

And how would this pay if I got the job? "$400." You know what, I'm going to pass. Is that okay? Am I turd?

She assured me I wasn't. But for $400, minus 15%, minus time for the audition, getting to and from, minus time for the shoot IF I even get it ... forget it.

I stripped to my boxers for a show before, no problem. But for this? Somehow it seems different. One of my first commercial jobs was for another medical industrial. I had to wear one of those stupid robes and get fake injected and poked and probed. The crew joked, "You want this for your reel?"

Ha-ha. Today I take a stand for personal dignity. And possibly also for career suicide. Time will tell.

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