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June 15, 2001

So I haven't called him in days.  I swore to myself that he'd have to be the first to call.  Yes, he would.  He's so happy not talking, then not talking we shall be.  I have plenty of things to do with my life anyway, like adjusting to the fact that I am completely friendless.  I'm such a grump at work, and I don't even care.  Some of the regular bad attituders are actually grooving on it, and are treating me like a princess.  

I'm even pissed off enough to turn the ringer off the phone, and toss a book on top of the answering machine so the evil red glare of No Calls does not affect me in the slightest.  Go on a few auditions with my evil I Don't Give A Shit Whether I Get This Job Or Not Attitude, and I get two callbacks, even one with the producer who I openly mocked.  He was sitting there at the desk after I did my cold read with his head in his hands.  "Give me a minute," he said, rubbing his head like the fate of the world rested on his decision to pick the actress who personified salad dressing the best. 

 

"I know.  It's so hard," I say before I can even think about it.  And he jerks his head up to look at me, and I thought for sure that was it, I'm now officially blackballed from the salad dressing commercial industry.  But I got a callback, and he was just as sweet as he could be.  This industry runs on attitude, and I've finally found my inner bitch to run in it.

So when he does finally call, at first I don't give a shit.  "Oh, hey," I say, all casual like, "What up."

"So I guess you're proving your point well enough."  "Yes.  And?"  "And I'm sorry.  I was wrong.  That's what you want, right?"  "Not really," I say.

And I issue this challenge, and I swear to God, I have no idea where it came from.  It sounds like I had been plotting planning and cooking.  It actually sounds like something that Ashley would have come up with, but really, it was just the first thing that popped into my mind.  "If you really wanna make it up to me, you'll let me interview you."