“Can you make a last minute audition?” my agent asks me as soon as I pick up the phone.

“How last minute?”

“Uhm. Like. Now?”

I curse silently and bang my head against the back of my office chair. I have stuff TO DO lady. Important stuff. Stuff like, blink at my computer screen, doodle my name over and over with a Sharpie marker, eat a Luna bar, etc.

“I guess so, sure,” I say slowly. It’s my job to audition, right? It’s a smart idea to make a good impression, isn’t it? Show her that I’m the kind of girl who can bolt out to a VERY IMPORTANT audition at the last minute? Who can step up to the plate and be the artist I was meant to be!? HELL YEAH.

I could feel myself getting fired up.

“What’s it for?”

“It’s a promo,” she says, fingernails clicking on computer keys.

A promo! Okay. Fine. Maybe not the artistic outlet I was looking for. But money! Right!? And maybe it’ll be challenging! Maybe I’ll LEARN SOMETHING.

“Promo for what?”

“Uh. That reality show…what is it…what is it…BRIDEZILLA.”

“Bride…what? Dude, are you serious?”

“Totally serious.”

“Uh. I am wearing a sweater dress, tights and boots. Not exactly a bridal outfit. Does that matter?”

“No, no, no. It’s last minute! Just make sure your hair and make up look neat.”

“GOT IT.”

I end the call on my blackberry, scoop up my bag and run to the office bathroom. Make up reapplied. Hair messed with. I decide that some watermelon lipgloss definitely screams BRIDE.

The studio is relatively empty with a few girls dressed like bridesmaids and a few men in tuxedos littering the hallway, texting furiously on their phones, pacing, yawning, cracking their knuckles. I can hear muffled screams coming from inside the audition room.

What the….?

I try not to think about it. What is GOING ON in there!? There’s no copy to read so I don’t have that to occupy my time. I decide to call my cousin Tom.

“Tips on being a Bridezilla?”

“WHAT?”

“A Bridezilla! A bride who goes batshit! Tips?”

“OOHHHHHHHHHH YEAH. Throw a fit at your bridesmaid! Scream at her that she ruined your day! Be a total bitch, you know!”

“No! I don’t know! I am totally a nice person!”

“Laura…”

“Okay. Fine. You’re right. BYE.”

As soon as I hang up the phone, a woman’s voice rings out down the hall.

“Number sixty-eight? You’re up.”

I hand over my headshot and cover sheet and march into the room.

A very bored English woman is the only one there.

“Okay sixty-eight,” she says tiredly. “They want someone who can look angry. Someone who has a meltdown on her wedding day. An actress who is capable of looking really really mad.”

“Um. Can I use these flowers?” I ask, picking up a plastic bouquet off the floor.

“Absolutely. There’s also an electric guitar you can pretend to smash.”

“An electric…what? What does a guitar have to do with a bride?”

“Please slate your name,” the camera lady says, ignoring me.

“LAURA.” I state proudly, turning once to the right and once to the left so she can shoot my profile.

“Okay, Laura. Whenever you’re ready, just start throwing a tantrum.”

“Do you want me to build it?”

“Yeah, that’d be good, I think. Start small. Then go ballistic.”

“Really lose my shit, right?”

“Really.”

And so she presses record on the camera and I throw every single acting skill I ever learned out the window.

I indicate, I exaggerate, I scream at an imaginary bridesmaid that she is a USELESS HUMAN BEING who NEVER SHOULD’VE been chosen to be part of the wedding party because she SUCKS at FOCUSING on MY SPECIAL DAY and I don’t CARE if her brother’s in REHAB, today is about ME ME ME ME ME…

And the rest is fuzzy. I do remember throwing plastic flowers everywhere and picking up the electric guitar over my head while baring my teeth like a rabid dog.

“Cut.”

Pause.

“That was funny.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, I left.

No callback.

WHAT THE ??????????

I guess it doesn’t even matter. But I truly thought I threw a Bridezilla tantrum like a ROCKSTAR. Commercial auditions are so beyond hilarious because it really isn’t about anything more than what you look like and how far you’re willing to go to look like a complete ass. I think I went pretty far. But upon further reflection, I think I could’ve gone farther.

And yet…I do have to wonder…if I’m not good enough to throw a Bridezilla tantrum, WHAT AM I DOING IN THIS BUSINESS!??????????? Going batshit like a crazy person is what I do on a DAILY BASIS. And…no callback!? How is that possible!? I’ve always wondered how I could possibly get someone to pay me money for doing what I do best and yet when the opportunity came along…FAIL.

Better luck next time, bitches.