Sunday, February 24, 2019
Side gigs part 4, or...
The power of suggestion...
As mentioned in my last post, one of my Lyft rides directly resulted in a tangible benefit to me, outside of the money I was making, of course. There was nothing special about the ride; it was White Plains to Port Chester, and I don't know how we got on the topic, but for some reason I mentioned that a friend wanted me to audition for Horseman's Hollow, a haunted maze in Sleepy Hollow, right next to the Headless Horseman's bridge. Our local connection to the Legend of Sleep Hollow tale, and our love of Autumn's colors make Halloween big business, with haunted hay rides in Orange County, the Pumpkin Blaze in Croton, tours of the Old Dutch Church and Graveyard, and many others.
I've always enjoyed participating as a visitor, but until a friend and former student suggested it, I never thought of working one of the events. I do have a talent for improv, which I did once on stage in New York City, and numerous times while studying to be an EMT; I made a great patient because I never broke character. Once I was asked to be a happy but obnoxious drunk that had to be transported on a gurney. At first I wondered what they knew about me, but I got into character anyway. Their job was to guide me to the gurney and get me to lay down, and my job was to make them hate life. I won that fight. They did get me on the stretcher eventually, though that was to be expected on my part. However, they forgot to lock the supports, so when I hopped on the stretcher, we all went crashing to the ground. I asked if Earth moved for them too, and even the teachers and lab techs cracked up. I was very proud of myself at that moment. I was so good that I was a victim for the final exams, and for the paramedic classes as well. I even had the students convinced I was hyperventilating. Everything was dandy until one of the female students kneed me in the balls to keep me quiet. Despite all this, I wasn't still wasn't convinced, so I messaged two friends on Facebook who have done acting professionally and both of them enthusiastically recommended to me that I try out for the part.
I related all this to my fare, and he replied that I should absolutely audition, but I said was too nervous. He said that he knew the creative director, and that he'd put in a good word for me. For whatever reason, I actually believed this as he started tapping on his phone, though I was never able verify his involvement. Still, with the boost to my confidence, I found out when the auditions were taking place, submitted my name, and resolved to actually show up.
The day of the audition found me filled with anxiety, wondering if I really wanted to do this. On my way home, I spilled something with mayonnaise on my shirt, and would not have had time to go home and change. I resolved to try anyway, and fixed my the problem by hitting one of the few rest stops in the Hudson Valley off I-87 in Rockland County. One I Heart New York t-shirt later, and I was back on the road, with plenty of time to get to Sleep Hollow.
The audition itself involved myself and three other people, with varying degrees of experience. One was a drama major fresh out of college; one was a teacher who organized her school's plays. Another disappeared at the beginning, and that left me, the mouthy dilettante, fucking around as usual. The first part was a quick series of question, I guess to measure how fast I could think on my feet. I was borderline insulted. I've been playing D&D since before everyone else in the room was born, and they're going to trip me up with questions like my favorite horror movie death? Fuck y'all. Needless to say, I did well. Finally, the meat of the audition came around: improvising a scene where I was the maitre'd at a restaurant for.... (wait for it) vampires. The waiter gave the two ladies blood from a vegetarian (no, really), and it was less than palatable. I was sent to fix the situation. I immediately wrapped an invisible towel around my left forearm, put my right arm behind my back, and spoke to the ladies as officially as I could muster. I turned to the the waiter (one of the returning cast members who played Ichabod Crane's ghost), and asked him what was the meaning of this, channeling as much menace as I could. Here I had two advantages: my height, as I was standing up straight and at least eight inches taller than he, and my deep voice. He replied "April Fool's." This is a direct quote. I proceeded to feed him to the ladies. The director said scene, and I got the job, with kudos coming from all parties. I was thrilled.
I should note this was a paid role. I was expecting a nominal sum, maybe $13 an hour, but since I had a speaking role, I was getting $19. It was a tidy sum, though I had no real idea about scheduling, or in retrospect, no much of anything else for that matter. Still, just like overcoming my fears driving for Lyft, I was happy and proud of myself. As for the gig itself? We'll look at that in my next post.
As mentioned in my last post, one of my Lyft rides directly resulted in a tangible benefit to me, outside of the money I was making, of course. There was nothing special about the ride; it was White Plains to Port Chester, and I don't know how we got on the topic, but for some reason I mentioned that a friend wanted me to audition for Horseman's Hollow, a haunted maze in Sleepy Hollow, right next to the Headless Horseman's bridge. Our local connection to the Legend of Sleep Hollow tale, and our love of Autumn's colors make Halloween big business, with haunted hay rides in Orange County, the Pumpkin Blaze in Croton, tours of the Old Dutch Church and Graveyard, and many others.
I've always enjoyed participating as a visitor, but until a friend and former student suggested it, I never thought of working one of the events. I do have a talent for improv, which I did once on stage in New York City, and numerous times while studying to be an EMT; I made a great patient because I never broke character. Once I was asked to be a happy but obnoxious drunk that had to be transported on a gurney. At first I wondered what they knew about me, but I got into character anyway. Their job was to guide me to the gurney and get me to lay down, and my job was to make them hate life. I won that fight. They did get me on the stretcher eventually, though that was to be expected on my part. However, they forgot to lock the supports, so when I hopped on the stretcher, we all went crashing to the ground. I asked if Earth moved for them too, and even the teachers and lab techs cracked up. I was very proud of myself at that moment. I was so good that I was a victim for the final exams, and for the paramedic classes as well. I even had the students convinced I was hyperventilating. Everything was dandy until one of the female students kneed me in the balls to keep me quiet. Despite all this, I wasn't still wasn't convinced, so I messaged two friends on Facebook who have done acting professionally and both of them enthusiastically recommended to me that I try out for the part.
I related all this to my fare, and he replied that I should absolutely audition, but I said was too nervous. He said that he knew the creative director, and that he'd put in a good word for me. For whatever reason, I actually believed this as he started tapping on his phone, though I was never able verify his involvement. Still, with the boost to my confidence, I found out when the auditions were taking place, submitted my name, and resolved to actually show up.
The day of the audition found me filled with anxiety, wondering if I really wanted to do this. On my way home, I spilled something with mayonnaise on my shirt, and would not have had time to go home and change. I resolved to try anyway, and fixed my the problem by hitting one of the few rest stops in the Hudson Valley off I-87 in Rockland County. One I Heart New York t-shirt later, and I was back on the road, with plenty of time to get to Sleep Hollow.
The audition itself involved myself and three other people, with varying degrees of experience. One was a drama major fresh out of college; one was a teacher who organized her school's plays. Another disappeared at the beginning, and that left me, the mouthy dilettante, fucking around as usual. The first part was a quick series of question, I guess to measure how fast I could think on my feet. I was borderline insulted. I've been playing D&D since before everyone else in the room was born, and they're going to trip me up with questions like my favorite horror movie death? Fuck y'all. Needless to say, I did well. Finally, the meat of the audition came around: improvising a scene where I was the maitre'd at a restaurant for.... (wait for it) vampires. The waiter gave the two ladies blood from a vegetarian (no, really), and it was less than palatable. I was sent to fix the situation. I immediately wrapped an invisible towel around my left forearm, put my right arm behind my back, and spoke to the ladies as officially as I could muster. I turned to the the waiter (one of the returning cast members who played Ichabod Crane's ghost), and asked him what was the meaning of this, channeling as much menace as I could. Here I had two advantages: my height, as I was standing up straight and at least eight inches taller than he, and my deep voice. He replied "April Fool's." This is a direct quote. I proceeded to feed him to the ladies. The director said scene, and I got the job, with kudos coming from all parties. I was thrilled.
I should note this was a paid role. I was expecting a nominal sum, maybe $13 an hour, but since I had a speaking role, I was getting $19. It was a tidy sum, though I had no real idea about scheduling, or in retrospect, no much of anything else for that matter. Still, just like overcoming my fears driving for Lyft, I was happy and proud of myself. As for the gig itself? We'll look at that in my next post.
