Connecticu*t

I always joke that I tell my agent never to schedule any appointments for me before noon.

But almost a month ago when I received yet another appointment for my dream role in Next to Normal, I was willing to accept 11:20AM as a valiant effort on his part. There was no material to prepare for the audition (though by this point I was ready to sing every vocal line in the show regardless of how many rounds of callbacks there could be). All I had to do was sit and wait.

So when this busy first week of the fall season finally arrived, I took it easy. I made sure to rest, hydrate, exercise, and starve (after my run-ins with those Russians). Everything was leading up to booking my dream role.

I woke up at 8AM to ensure I had enough time to vocalize and pick the perfect outfit. Nothing was going to stand in my way today. I even left myself an entire hour to take the 20 minute trip to Midtown Manhattan.

And I was so glad I did when I stepped on the train to hear there was a signal problem and Manhattan bound traffic was delayed.

Not exactly standing in my way, but just to the left of it.

Half an hour later when I was still in Queens, it was standing in my way.

WHAT IF I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO FIX MY HAIR?!

I preemptively texted my agent that I now had only 30 minutes to make the trip and as long as I didn't get lost (I mean if I can't find 30 Rock...), I'd be there in plenty of time.

To me, there is nothing more embarrassing than showing up late.

So when I made it with two minutes left to sprint down 52nd and arrive at the monitor's desk at 11:22, I was already embarrassed enough

and at first the monitor assured me it was completely fine since they were running behind

but then as he fell silent and asked for my name again

my heart sank.

Monitor: Oh, I'm so sorry...I don't see you on the list...what was your name?
Me: BARANSKI (I simply emphasized this in case his mind would hop-to and realize how recognizable that name should be in the theatre world). My appointment should be happening RIGHT NOW.
Monitor: Yeah, gosh, so sorry, you're not on here...

He gave me a blank stare as if I had simply made the entire thing up.

Me: My agent literally confirmed this appointment a month ago...do I...need to make some calls?

I had no idea getting seen for a job that paid $300/week would be so difficult.

Monitor: Yeah, why don't you do that?

So I called my agent who was equally confused how some small theater in Connecticut could at first seem so overly prepared one-month-in-advance to being a shit show the day-of.

and I don't want to call people out so we'll call it the MUSIC THEATRE OF SHMUNNECTICUT for those of you keeping score at home.

When I asked the monitor who we should contact about the mistake, he still pretended as if I was making everything up and when I held the phone up to him and said

"Do YOU want to talk to him?"

He simply told me that he would talk to the artistic team in the room and see what he could do.

I swear, it was as if Steven Spielberg were on the other side of that door and could NOT be bothered amidst the plethora of pudgy brunette boys he was currently seeing.

Surely the casting director would remember my blonde locks if he would just take a moment to sort out the mistake. I mean, I WAS wearing my lucky hoodie on the train, so this should all breeze over.

But no...as I waited outside for three more pudgy brunette boys to go, the monitor finally returned to me and said

"I'm so sorry, you're not on the list and due to time constraints we won't be able to see you today."

I DID NOT TURN DOWN FREE DRINKS AT A PREMIERE PARTY LAST NIGHT TO HAVE YOU TELL ME ABOUT YOUR TIME CONSTRAINTS. I HAVE HAD THIS APPOINTMENT FOR A MONTH.

But since my tongue was numbed by the aloofness with which I had been brushed off by some undergrad with a pen, I simply called my agent again.

Then, I waited for one hour in a Starbucks for the situation to be sorted out. I was feeling quite calm once I had downed my Venti iced coffee (unsweetened, splash of soy), but when I learned that my agent hadn't been able to get in touch with a single person that worked for MUSIC THEATRE OF SHMUNNECTICUT via e-mail or phone

he got Equity involved.

Listen, I didn't ask for it, I didn't want it, but I happen to have some pretty cut-throat people working for me.

And let me just say, when the union has to be contacted about how you're running your business...you're not running your business.

But not even Equity could get somebody on the phone.

So what happened?

My agent went home to put on his power suit and walked HIMSELF over to the auditions to speak to the artistic team himself

JUST to get me an apology.

You know, I look over this past year and realize I'm a pretty lucky guy.

The worst part of the situation? None of it matters. Nobody at that theater, and nobody who sees that show, and nobody in Connecticut or New York will ever care that I spent weeks concerned over 2 minutes of my life that would never happen. Nobody will care that I spent 6 hours of today trying to sing 16 bars.

We are expendable. We are replaceable. We are actors.

It's times like these that I start to search Amazon.com for LSAT books.

But as long as people keep putting on suits to get me apologies...I think I'll stick around.

Somebody's drinking tonight,

TJB: Making It