“So, what song have you prepared?”
“What song have you prepared for your audition?”
“I think I’m in the wrong room”
“But your name is Terry…..oh. Oh yes you are. And I think I’ve got the wrong end of the stick”
“Oh holy mother of fuck, is it the dungarees?”
Sitting in front of me were ten transsexual actors.
My name is Terry and I was wearing some rather unfortunate dungarees (don’t judge me, as fashion choices go they were bad I was fishing my pants out of my arse all day, but Instagram told me it was cool to wear them), no make up and hair in a Croydon facelift.
To be fair, I probably did look like I was transgender; apart from the huge tits, and my name sounds male, so I can see where the mix up happened.
“Did you want to audition anyway?”
“No. I can’t sing for shit”.
I found the right room in the end and I was so late I was at the back of the queue, which I didn’t mind because it meant I could sit and have a cup of tea with no one talking at me or asking me to wipe their arse.
That new James Arthur song was on repeat, the one where he’s talking about holding his girlfriend’s hair back while she’s puking in the toilet and she wants him to stay the night, and he’s all like “oooo, not now get some sleep”. When what he is really saying is “I’ve just watched you puke, do you really think I am going to fuck you now? Fucking hell, I hope you were going to brush your teeth, you skanky cow”.
And then for some reason he starts singing about doing the fucking school run (because she sounds like she’d make a fucking excellent mother) and then it all ends with this beauty: “I wanna live with you even when we’re ghosts”
What James, like the pair out of Beetlejuice? You massive twat.
Honestly, I mean just no.
Anyway I am only mentioning it because the woman sat next to me going up for the same part kept singing along and getting teary eyed and I wanted to punch her.
“Do you like James Arthur then?” I asked her, just so she would stop fucking singing for a second.
“I love him. He looks like he’d be a dead dirty fuck”.
I wasn’t expecting that. I also wasn’t expecting the hideous dream I had about shagging James Arthur that night, but she was right, he was a dirty fuck.
I did the audition; it was for the lead in a pilot for a TV series. A comedy about the things I love most in the world: Zombies.
And I got a call back audition and then I had to go back and do a screen test.
I hate screen tests.
They are boring, pointless and are only there so producers can laugh at you if you look like a twat on screen.
They plaster your face in make up and I always forget and rub my eyes or mouth and end up looking like the joker.
I had to answer some questions about myself:
“Just be yourself” said the Director
“Fuck no, don’t be yourself, please” whispered my agent as I walked onto the set, filling me with confidence.
Then I had to run some lines with the actor who had got the male lead part, and then finally I got to leave.
As I was walking out the door, the producer grabbed me and told me they loved me, thought that I had real chemistry with the male lead (well, he was fit as all hell) and that I’d got the part.
It’s only a pilot. But at least it means that I don’t have to audition for commercials for a while, or pretend to be a chav so I can go on Jeremy Kyle.
But I do get to run around pretending to kill Zombies and the script is really funny.
And I am only writing this because I have a ton of real writing work to go and I am procrastinating.