Sunday, June 8, 2008

I could have been a SUPER STAR!

When I was in college, I noticed several ads every weekend for anyone interested in being an extra on a movie or a tv series or an educational video or whatever. I knew that I could act as cheesy or wear as dopey of sunglasses as the guy in the ad on the left. So, I decided to investigate and I found a perfect opportunity to make a name for myself.



The ad was looking for extras for an upcoming movie starring Nicolas Cage (how can you not love his near Oscar worthy work on Face/Off with John Travolta?) and John Cusack (who is actually one of our favorites). I knew that the only reason that I was not yet a star was that I had yet to try out for any kind of role.

I found out the time for tryouts and I headed downtown. I was not yet a real metrosexual so I was a little confused on what I should wear. I could wear one of my polos (they had just recently gone out of style) or one of my plaid shirts (they had just gone out of style about 5 years earlier). To be honest, I have no idea what I chose but I definately know that I did not pick any pegged pants.

I headed downtown to an office building and entered in thru the doors to find two big flyers on the door that I had something like this as a warning:
This movie will be rated 'R' so if you are offended or uncomfortable with any of the following, then please do not apply for a position as an extra:
  • Excessive swearing
  • Use of guns
  • Violence

How awesome is that? I could already picture me running through a building with guns blaring, dropping dirty words on the bad guys as I mowed them down with rapid gunfire. I quickly signed in my name, filled out a form (I found out that if I was chosen, I would earn $42 before taxes, for every day that I worked...whether it was 4 hours or 16 hours, the pay would be the same) and had a polaroid photo taken of me. They told me that if I was chosen, I would get a call within 2 days.



2 days passed and I never received that phone call. Strange...I mean, I can't imagine there being many 22-year old brown-haired white boys in Salt Lake City. Oh well. My career was finished before I could fire off one shot, utter one f-bomb or get in a bar room brawl.

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