My hungover audition

For some reason this post title reminds me a little bit of my drunk kitchen.  It sort of rhymes. You should probably check that out.  Also, she has a video called Frederick.  That's pretty neat.  Even if she may or may not ask "Frederick" to take her in the butt...

Anyway. For the past two weekends I have been partaking in an incredibly responsible and professional behavior (sarcasm)... attending weekend morning auditions after an evening of drinking and revelry with my friends.  I may tell myself I will not drink much, that I will go home early, but I quickly begin to care exponentially more about the present moment than about the next morning and inevitably do not listen to my better, soberer self.  I stay out far too late and ingest far too many alcoholic beverages for my new status as a post-grad lightweight.  However, no matter how irresponsibly I may behave, I eventually get me to my bed, consume large quantities of water, and go to sleep for far fewer hours than I would like.  When my phone obnoxiously blares Tilly and the Wall's "Rainbows in the Dark" at me, I groan, but get up, get dressed, force myself to consume more water, coffee, and something resembling food, make myself look somehow presentable despite the dark circles under my eyes, and I go.  Honestly, my hangover isn't really that bad, I'm just exhausted.

I walk to the train.  My hungover audition sees your walk of shame and is judging you, however hypocritical this judgment may be.  My hangover audition also sees Minnie Mouse and someone dressed in full bridal-wear singing R&B in Times Square and doesn't know how to deal with this.  My hungover audition wonders why people hold auditions on weekend mornings anyway.  Don't people know that actors like to drink?  Is studio space just cheaper on weekend mornings?  (Probably).  Is whatever my hungover audition is for a worthwhile project anyway?  (Probably not.)

I arrive at my hungover audition, just barely on time, freshen up, and go into the room.  I have to confess, I feel like I nail my hungover audition.  Perhaps my current state of exhaustion means I didn't over-think my performance and I really hit the mark?  Or perhaps my hungover audition and I are so tired and hungover that we are deluded into thinking it went well, when in fact, it did not.


My hungover audition is over, and for the most-part, so is my hangover, but we're going to run with this concept for the rest of the post anyway.  Why?  Because I like it.  It's time to go and my hungover audition really, really does not want to deal with your subway drumming, your weekend train delays and cancellations and the number of slow moving tourists in Times Square.  All my hungover audition cares about now is what terrible, probably fried, nourishment it is going to find for lunch.  It debates for a while over french fries, chicken tenders and pizza, but eventually my hungover audition and my unlimited metrocard decide that it is a good idea to stop in the Grand Central dining concourse for samosas.  My hungover audition thinks it gets two samosas with it's order, and when it gets three, decides it will be virtuous and find a homeless person to receive the spare.  However, after a moment of contemplation, my hungover audition eats the third samosa.  My hungover audition is fed and satisfied and decides that now we can go home.  Though first my hungover audition will walk me around for a while to contemplate finding further, unnecessary sustenance and may or may not buy some fro-yo on special at c-town.

Then, finally, my hungover audition decides it's time to take a nap.

Something wakes me up.  Oh, what's that?  I just got a callback from my hungover audition?  Well there you go.

-----------------------------

The tone of this post also somewhat inspired by: "my period takes me shopping."