ABOUT MY BLOG...

My blog is not meant to offend, hurt, insult, discriminate, accuse, piss off, or alienate anyone.  I write whatever pops into my head. I hope you enjoy them. 

-Amy Wade

 WARNING: THE CONTENT IN THIS BLOG IS NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNG VIEWERS

          

NAKED ALIEN STUNT DOUBLE?!!

I was living in LA, pursuing my acting dream. I had an audition for a TV movie about aliens. It was for the lead role. They called me back and I ended up booking the job. I was ecstatic! I memorized the script in two days and showed up on the set feeling like a star...

The make-up artist started to apply a thick, green liquid to my face and neck and head... he told me it would harden and it might be difficult to eat or drink. I was confused because my role in the script was not the alien. I was supposed to be human. I inquired about this and the make-up artist looked at me oddly. I started getting nervous and asked to speak with the director right away.

Director: Who are you? What do you want?

I was taken aback.

Me: I'm Amy. Amy Wade, the lead character.

Director: (he laughs out loud) We have a 'name actress' for the lead role. Who are you?

I wanted to die. What an embarrassing moment.

Me: I'm Am-

Director: (interrupting me) I don't have time for this shit. JANICE! Where the fuck is Janice? Someone get my assistant!

The alien make-up was solidifying. I could barely move my lips.

"Janice" came running into the make-up room.

Janice: I'm here, what happened?

Director: Who is this girl?

Janice: I don't know- who are you? What's your name? (looking at her clipboard) You're the alien stunt double.

Me: I'm what?

Janice: An alien, who does stunts. Did I stutter?

The comment made me want to BITCH-SLAP her.

Me: I was cast as the lead character, not the alien.

They laughed.

Director: You're joking, right? You're a no-name. A nobody whose costing me time and money. Janice, you handle this. She needs to be on set in 10 minutes.

He walked away.

Me: But I memorized the whole script! I was cast as "Simtra." That's the-

Janice: (interrupting) Emily, we're past that. MOVING ON... Miguel- do you have the body paint ready?

Me: My name is Amy, not Emily.

Janice: Okay Amy, get rid of your attitude. Now take off your fucking clothes so Miguel can finish with the body make-up. 

Me: Excuse me?

Janice: Jesus Christ, you actors are a pain in my ass. Your character is naked, but you'll be covered in green paint so you won't be able to see anything.

Me: Wait a second, HOLD ON! You want me to do stunt work- NAKED????

Janice: Are you DEAF? Holy shit I just told you- the green paint will cover your body, we'll hardly see anything once Miguel has finished.

I was barely listening. The green shit on my face was hardening- I'm clausterphobic.

Me: Oh my God I can't feel my lips!

Janice: That's okay- you don't have any lines.

I wanted to shove a STICK UP HER ASS.

Me: How much are you paying me for this?

Janice: Two hundred bucks- that's fifty more than what we originally agreed upon.

Me: You want me to be a NAKED ALIEN STUNT DOUBLE FOR $200 BUCKS?!!!

I started to cry but my nostrils were sealed shut and I couldn't breathe.

Me: Someone get this make-up off of me! I'm outta here!

I didn't care if I ever worked with these people again. This SLUT-WHORE was pushing me over the edge.

I couldn't peel the make-up off my face. I started hyperventilating.

Director: (returning) What the fuck is going on? She's supposed to be done by now! The crew is waiting for her to get on the lift for the first stunt!

The director looked at me.

Director: What the fuck are you doing? You're ruining the mask!

I was punching myself in the face, trying to crack the hardened make-up.

Director: You are costing us money! (to Janice) What is her name?

Janice: Emily.

I cracked the mask around my mouth and started pulling off chunks of it.

Me: I'm Amy! My name is Amy! Someone help me get this stuff OFF MY FACE!

Director: (yelling at me) Stop breaking it! (to Janice) Where did you get this girl? 

I punched myself again and the mask broke into a million pieces. I was FREE!

Director: YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!

Me: Is that a threat or do you mean I have to pay for the alien mask?

Director: Listen you little BRAT- I will RUIN your name in this town! You can't walk off the set! The crew is waiting for you and we don't have time to hire another stunt double so GET UNDRESSED and GET YOUR ASS ON SET! Janice! Find Mitchell to help Miguel. He can work on another mask while Miguel does the body paint.

At this point, I wasn't embarrassed anymore. My BI-POLAR side was emerging. When that happens, there's no turning back.

Janice walked over to me and tried to tug at the arms of my shirt. This was NOT A SMART MOVE.

"Bi-Polar Amy" took over.

Me: If you TOUCH me, JANE, I'm going to SHOVE MY FIST UP YOUR ASS UNTIL IT COMES OUT OF YOUR MOUTH.

Mitchell and Miguel froze. Janice backed off.

I grabbed my bags and walked out of the make-up room. I wasn't done. I found the director on set with the crew. I was so furious I was shaking. My thoughts were racing and my mind was seeking VENGEANCE.

Me: HEY!! 

The director turned around.

Me: I’M OUTTA HERE! Find someone else to get naked and do STUNTS in an alien costume for $200!!!!

Director: You can't talk to me like that! You work for ME! You will NOT walk off this set!

Me: WATCH ME!

I started walking toward my car. The director followed me.

Director: Your career is OVER young lady!

I stopped and turned around.

Me: I HAVE NO CAREER, I'm a no-name, remember? Now get away from me!

I was FUMING. He was still following me to my car. The veins in my neck and forehead were BURSTING THROUGH MY SKIN.

Me: I said, BACK OFF!

The entire cast and crew had assembled in the background. Some of them were giving me a "thumbs up" sign. Most of them were laughing and enjoying the entertainment.

As I got into my car I started thinking about his threat. Could he ruin my future as an actress? Probably. But at that moment, I didn't care.

Me: (to myself) A NAKED ALIEN STUNT DOUBLE??? 

I cried the whole way home.

NAKED ALIEN STUNT DOUBLE was one of MANY strange and unfortunate experiences I would have during my twenty years in the pursuit.

GOAT CHEESE & RODEO DRIVE 

It was 1991. I was in LA pursuing acting. My agent called. I had an audition for Dionne Warwick's PSYCHIC HOTLINE.  

I left early because I had to drive through Beverly Hills to get there. Traffic is always a nightmare in Beverly Hills.

My boyfriend told me to stop at his bar on my way to the audition. He wanted to buy me lunch. He ordered me a Goat Cheese Salad. "I don't eat Goat Cheese," I said. I ate it anyway. I got up to leave and a wave of nausea came over me. Then I felt sharp pains in my abdomen. I started sweating and feeling dizzy. 

I didn't want to miss the audition. It was a big opportunity to get in the door with Dionne Warwick. (I'm kidding) I stifled the nausea and jumped in my car. By the time I arrived at the studio my skin color was pea-green.  I'd never turned colors before. This wasn't good for the camera.

The casting director asked me if I was feeling okay. I didn't respond because I felt like I was going to puke and that definitely wouldn't look good on tape.  

Instead, I sprinted out the door, knowing my agent would dump me for missing such a great opportunity. (kidding again) I didn't care. The pain was that bad. I pulled into a 7-11 parking lot and found a pay phone. (pre-cell phone days) I called my boyfriend. He said it was the goat cheese. It was bad. He was sorry. OH MY GOD I HAD EATEN THE ENTIRE SALAD. He said I should go to an emergency room. I had food poisoning. Emergency room? I didn't even have health insurance! 

The pain was getting worse by the SECOND. I crawled (literally) into the 7-11 and begged anyone to help me. "Is there a doctor in here? A nurse? Anyone who can help me? I have food poisoning!"  By now, I was ROLLING around on the filthy disgusting floor, moaning and crying from the excruciating pains in my stomach. I was begging strangers to help me.

Two men responded. They said they were doctors and I should go with them to their place so they could give me some medicine. 

Sounds shady, right? It was. I didn't give a FLYING FUCK. I thought I was DIEING. The two men drove me to their apartment. One of them pulled out a giant book of MEDICINE. If I hadn't been so sick I would've laughed out loud. This was getting SHADIER by the MINUTE. The guy with the medicine book said he found a drug that would induce vomiting. He went to the pharmacy and returned with a bottle of liquid. I guzzled it. HOLY SHIT it was potent. We all waited for something to happen. I couldn't believe the fucked up situation I was in. What the HELL? Typical of my life, I thought to myself. The three of us were sitting there, waiting. It was awkward. A second later I was running to the bathroom. I puked. Whew! Much better! (not really, but at this point I just wanted to go home) The "medicine man" told me I shouldn't leave yet. He said I had a long way to go before it was over. I insisted on leaving. Medicine Man went back to the 7-11 to get my car. I thanked both of them profusely. I felt like such a LOSER. I ran to my car and drove away. Damn. It was rush hour. I was in gridlock on RODEO DRIVE when the medicine took full effect. It hit me like a TRAIN. I rolled down my window just in time as I began PROJECTILE VOMITING into the street. I felt like Linda Blair in THE EXORCIST. The vomit was SHOOTING OUT OF MY MOUTH LIKE A JET STREAM. I remember looking into the eyes of a horrified woman in a RANGE ROVER- she had 3 kids in the backseat. There was nothing I could do as my vomit hit her passenger side window... there were cars all around me- everyone was watching... IT WAS SO HUMILIATING and the traffic WASN'T MOVING so I had to sit there while people were getting sick all around me from watching the scene. I tried to hide my face. The mother was still gaping at me. Her kids were trying to roll down the back window so they could see the puke on the side of the car. She was yelling at them. Then, it hit me again. HOLY SHIT- there's no stopping it!  This time, I tried to open my door in attempt to avoid hitting her car again. My hand got stuck in the door handle and the projectile vomit was spraying all over me and my steering wheel and my door- I had no options. I leaned out the window again. For the second time I made eye contact with the horrified mother as my vomit sprayed across her windows and doors. 

The traffic started to move. I rolled up my window and tried not to gag when I gripped the steering wheel. 

It was over, right? I couldn't possibly have anything left in my stomach. Now if I could just get the FUCK home. The worst part was being in traffic with the same people who watched me projectile vomit. I wanted to disappear.

It happened 3 more times before I got home. The third time was on Hollywood Boulevard. A group of tourists captured some great photos.

I didn't book the Dionne Warwick spot. My agent dumped me the next day. 

I WILL NEVER EAT GOAT CHEESE AGAIN. 

            BIKINIS, BALLS, and A BIG FALL


When I first moved to Hollywood, I did extra work for The Young & the Restless and The Bold & the Beautiful. Sometimes I got called in to work the "BIKINI BAR" scene in The Bold & the Beautiful. 
It  was a ridiculous job, wearing spiked heels and a bikini, dancing to imaginary music and throwing giant beach balls across the set when the director yelled "action!"
Talk about degrading.


I got called in again. Ugh. I hated wearing a bikini on the set. All of the other girls had big boobs and nice legs and it made me feel insecure and uncomfortable. Still, it was an easy $127, and I loved being at the studio. It made me feel like a working actress even though I was only doing extra work.


We were placed strategically around the bar. I was standing directly behind the lead actors in the scene. Sweet! I might actually be on camera for a second or two! Right before we started shooting, an assistant came running over with a GIANT beach ball. It was the biggest beach ball I'd ever seen. He gave it to me and told me to throw it across the bar to another background performer (fancy name for an "extra") when the director yelled "ACTION!" 
Then he added, "Look like you're having fun and remember, you're all dancing even though there's no music." 


I looked at the beach ball. It was HUGE. Didn't they have smaller beach balls?
The cameras were rolling and the director yelled, "ACTION!"  I was dancing in those damn high heels and trying to look natural. The ball was so big it completely blocked my view of the actors across the room. I faked some laughter and giggles (GAG ME) and went to throw the ball but I tripped over a light cord and the ball shot forward, hitting the lead actress in the back of her head. She fell into the camera. I grabbed onto the light stand, pulling it down with me as my head bounced off the corner of the bar. It hurt like hell. I almost lost my bikini top because the string had unraveled and so I was standing there, apologizing to everyone while holding my hands over my boobs because the damn bikini was falling off.  The crew and assistants rushed to help the lead actress.  She was crying and complaining that she bruised her arm. Never mind that my forehead had a big GASH in it! One of the camera guys threw me a towel and said, "You're getting blood all over the set- put this on your head."
The director was pissed off. I kept apologizing but nobody cared. They just wanted to replace the broken light and resume shooting. (The camera was not broken, THANK GOD) I was told to go to the health clinic on the 3rd floor to have my head looked at. 
I walked off the set still holding my bikini top to my chest. Nobody even offered to re-tie the string for me. I didn't go to the clinic. I'd had enough humiliation for one day.


That was the end of my career as a Bikini Bar extra.

       SPIELBERG, BATMAN, & POCAHONTAS

It was 1993. I was a waitress at "THE DIVE", a restaurant owned by Steven Spielberg and 3 other Hollywood bigwigs. I'd met Spielberg when I initially got hired. He was my hero. I'd just seen Schindler's List and I thought he was the greatest director on the PLANET. After working at "The Dive" for a year and a half, Mr. Spielberg actually knew my name. One day he called the manager to inform us he was coming in to celebrate his nephew's birthday. He wanted to reserve a private section of the restaurant to avoid being disturbed. I was assigned to be his waitress. 
I was nervous. I'd waited on him before, but not for a special occasion like this. I dropped a tray of wine glasses 5 minutes before they arrived. The crew helped me vacuum up the glass and re-set the tables just before they showed up. Fifteen people (mostly kids) entered the restaurant and were taken immediately to my station, which was empty other than the large table I had set up for them. 
I was serving Cokes and Sprites and Lemonades to the kids when Spielberg took me aside. I was shitting my pants but tried to remain calm. He told me there was a birthday cake for his nephew in the back of the kitchen. He wanted me to bring out the cake when they were done eating, and sing Happy Birthday with all of the servers in the restaurant. 
"No problem, Steve! You can count on me!" (I'm totally kidding. I didn't say "Steve".) In fact, I was so nervous I didn't reply at all. I just nodded my head and wiped the sweat from my eyebrows before it dripped into my eyes.
Everything was going GREAT. The food was perfect, the kids were laughing and having a great time. Mr. Spielberg looked relaxed and pleased. 
I cleared the tables and re-set them with dessert plates and forks. Spielberg looked at me and winked. That was the "sign" to bring out the birthday cake. I ran to the back of the kitchen. All of the other servers were waiting to come out with me and sing "Happy Birthday." (Just an F.Y.I.- this is the WORST part of being a waitress. NOBODY likes to sing Happy Birthday, it's totally ANNOYING and we HATE IT.) 
I lit the birthday candles on the cake.
"Is everyone ready?" I asked.
I held the cake with two hands as we all started singing and marched toward Spielberg's table. When I looked up, Spielberg was waving his arms at me. Something wasn't right. He was standing behind his nephew as he mouthed the words, "That's not our cake!"
HOLY FUCKIN SHIT 
I couldn't believe it. OH MY GOD I had to think FAST.
"HOLD ON EVERYONE!" I interrupted.
The room got quiet.
"That was FABULOUS! Great dress rehearsal! We're ready for the real deal now! Hold that note- we'll be right back!"
I detoured everyone back into the kitchen. They were all talking at once. 
"You brought out the wrong cake?"
"Where is SPIELBERG'S CAKE?"
"Amy- you didn't notice it was a POCAHONTAS cake? His nephew is a BOY!" said "Tricia", a snooty blond waitress, who relished this moment. I wanted to bitch-slap her. 
Jose', my busboy, said, "I saw a BATMAN cake earlier- maybe that was it?"
"Where is it? Who took the BATMAN cake?! OH MY GOD THEY'RE WAITING FOR US!" I was close to tears. This was the WORST thing that could possibly happen. How could I tell Spielberg his nephew's cake was missing?
At that moment, "Felicia", a new waitress, came running into the kitchen with a flaming BATMAN cake. The candles were almost out, and the wax had smeared BATMAN into a blue pulp. Felicia was supposed to have the POCAHONTAS cake. I was supposed to have BATMAN. 
We switched up. Both of the cakes looked like shit. I tried to re-light the candles. It didn't matter that my hands kept dropping matches into the cake because the wax covered them up.  
I was going to FAINT. 
"Let's go everyone!"
We marched back out of the kitchen and started singing "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" again. My fellow servers were belting it out, (on my behalf, I'm sure) trying to save my sorry ass from this nightmare. 
The kids were oblivious. They didn't care. They were running around and blowing whistles and singing and none of them looked at the cake until the song was over. The room got quiet so the birthday boy could make his wish before blowing out the candles.
I felt like I was stuck in a really bad movie. We all looked at the melted pile of wax and blue gunk that used to be BATMAN. SPIELBERG was FUMING. His nephew didn't seem to notice. He made a wish but all the candles had burned out before he could blow on them so I tried to save this moment as well...
"Whoopsie! The candles were so excited, they blew themselves out!" (DUMBEST THING I'VE EVER SAID.)
I whipped out a giant lighter. The flame was too high. The candy decorations caught fire and flamed up like a firecracker. I had no choice but to slam my hand on top of the cake to put it out. Now the kid wasn't happy. He started WAILING.
I was frozen in my place. All of the other servers ran back to their stations. 
I tried to console the little boy... 
"I'll bake you another one, honey! You can come back tomorrow and we'll do this again!" I didn't even know what I was saying.
My manager appeared and grabbed my arm.
"Just leave the floor, Amy. I'll talk to Spielberg."
Spielberg didn't fire me. (I couldn't believe it.) I was traumatized for a long time. I had nightmares about flaming blue cakes and BATMAN BURNING and Schindler's List and Spielberg lighting my hair on fire while crowds of people watched and applauded. 
I used to love BATMAN, and Pocahontas too. Now I HATE THEM. Almost as much as I hate singing Happy Birthday. 

SHOOT ME NOW

Many years ago, I was doing extra work for a TJ Maxx Commercial. The location was on a highway over-pass. I was bored as hell. I hated being an extra. Most of us weren't going to be used in the first half of the commercial, which meant we had NOTHING TO DO for several hours. Ugh. I decided to pass the time by watching the cars whizzing by underneath the overpass. Sometimes the drivers would look up to see what was going on.

I didn't notice when the cameras started rolling. They were shooting the first scene of the commercial. At the same time, three 18-wheeler trucks were heading my way. I remembered when I was a little girl, we used to wave to the truck driver's so they would blow their horns. Without thinking, I gave the signal and started waving my hands in the air. When the trucks passed underneath me, the driver's blew their horns. I whooped and hollered at my achievement.

Suddenly I heard a loud air horn. A voice was shouting, "YOU! IN THE BLUE DRESS!" (I looked down and remembered I was wearing a blue dress. Oh shit.) "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

I froze. Everyone was looking in my direction. The production assistant came running toward me. The director was still yelling. "DO YOU HAVE A BRAIN? THE CAMERAS ARE ROLLING!"

I was mortified. The worst part was that I deserved it. It was a dumb thing to do.

"What is your name?" The production assistant asked me. "Are you an extra?"

I wanted to melt into the pavement. Someone please SHOOT ME NOW.

"Yes. My name is Amy." I couldn't even look at him. Everyone was still watching. The director was muttering obscenities under his breath while everyone moved back to their starting positions.

"Well, Amy, you just got yourself FIRED. The shuttle bus will take you to your car. Next time you decide to pull a stunt like that, maybe you'll think twice."

"Yes sir, I'm really very sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"That's because thinking requires a BRAIN, and obviously you don't have one. Now get your ass out of here. You'll never work for this company again."

I was humiliated. I drove around the city for hours before I went home. I didn't want to tell my family I'd been FIRED as an extra. You can't be a bigger LOSER than that.

Or so, I thought. But then again, it's the story of my life.

I should get a big "L" tattooed on my forehead.

NAKED MAN WITH A CAMERA

I had an audition for a reality show. I was supposed to be a reporter or a hostess or something of the sort. The breakdown was evasive, but it paid $5000 and sounded like fun. It was a show about mail-order brides. I would be flown to other countries to interview the brides. When they arrived in America, a camera crew would film the initial greetings and remain with them through the wedding ceremony.


The audition was in Bel Air.  I was weary because it was a private home. It was a mansion surrounded by a stone wall; very obscure and a bit daunting. I pressed a button at the gate and it automatically opened. I walked into a paradise of flowers, waterfalls and palm trees. It looked like a picture from a magazine. The front door was HUGE. I remember feeling uneasy- something wasn't right. I was about to turn around when the door opened. A man came out and greeted me with a hug? That was weird. I didn't know how to react so I didn't. (In retrospect, I wish I had kneed him in the balls) 


He invited me inside and asked me if I wanted a glass of wine. Even weirder. I asked if he was joking and he laughed and said, "Loosen up, girl! This is more like an interview than an audition. I want you to be relaxed and comfortable." 
I said no thank you and asked if we could move things along because I had another audition to go to.
He poured himself a glass of wine and led me into his living room. There was a camera set up on a tripod.


He sat down on a chair next to the camera and told me to sit on the couch. "What interests you about this project?" He said. 
I replied, "Well, at this point, not much."  
"Why is that?" He asked.
I paused, then said,  "You're drinking a glass of wine."
He responded with, "That offends you?" 


What an idiot. 


I was irritated. This was a waste of my  time. If I hadn't been in LA for fifteen years I might have been naive and gone along with it. But I wasn't naive.


"Yes." I said.
"I'm sorry. Let me get rid of this and grab a water instead." He hurried out of the room before I could respond. 


I checked my surroundings. Which way did we come? The place was huge. Doors were everywhere. I couldn't remember which door we came in. I started to get nervous. This was not a good situation. Where the fuck did he go? I wanted to leave. I stood up. 


"I'm coming!" I heard his voice from another room. 


Suddenly he appeared. HE WAS NAKED. 


"What the FUCK?" I said.


"I want you to give me a massage. This will tell me if you're open-minded and comfortable in all situations."


I was speechless. THERE WAS A NAKED MAN STANDING IN FRONT OF ME and he was asking for a MASSAGE. Gross! He didn't even have a decent size penis. This was FUCKED UP. Why do these things always happen to me?  I stood there for a few moments before I could respond.


"You're NAKED." I said. Hearing it out loud made it sink in deeper. 


"Yes, you noticed." He tried to crack a joke, standing there, naked.


I switched from being nervous to PISSED OFF in like, 2 seconds. He walked toward me.


"IF YOU COME NEAR ME I'M GOING TO KICK YOU IN THE BALLS SO FUCKING HARD YOU WILL NEVER WALK AGAIN."  My adrenaline was racing. I looked at the door behind him. That must be the way back to the entrance. 


The pervert spoke again. "I'm sorry I offended you. Don't leave, I'll put my clothes back on and we can talk."


I looked him in the eyes and saw a sick, twisted pervert looking back at me. 


"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!"  I screamed and lunged forward, shoving him as hard as I could to get by. It was a good, HARD shove. He tripped backwards  and fell over a glass coffee table, hitting his head on a bronze statue of a lion. I don't know if it knocked him out. I didn't stop to check. I found the front door and sprinted to my car. I was shaking. I sat there for a minute to catch my breath and calm down. I was still angry and wished I had done more to maim him. Then I wondered if he had a gun. He might come out and try to shoot me. I sped away and called the cops on my way home. I never found out what happened to him. I didn't give the cops my personal information because honestly, I didn't want to deal with it. The image of a naked man falling  over a table and hitting his head on a bronze statue was gross enough. 

RESTROOM STOP

I had an audition for an independent film. It was for the lead role; a tough, biker-chic seeking  revenge on a man who killed her mother. There were stunts involved, and some great fight scenes. I WANTED this role. 

On my way to the casting studio I stopped at STARBUCKS for a large iced mocha latte and a bottled water. I chugged the coffee down in two minutes.

It was a hot day, at least 90 degrees. I got stuck in traffic. Guzzled the bottle of water. Suddenly I had to pee. BAD. I was in gridlock on the freeway. I had to get off at the next exit. It was a bad neighborhood. I didn't care. I needed to find a bathroom. 

I went to a Shell gas station across the street. 

"Do you have a bathroom?" I asked the cashier. 

"You get gas?" He said in broken English.

"No, I just need to use the restroom."

"Toilet for customer only."

I hate when they say that.

"Fine. I'll buy some gum on my way out, ok?"

"No, you buy gum now, then use bathroom."

What an asshole. 

I bought a pack of BIG RED. I didn't even know they still made BIG RED.

The attendant gave me a key tied to a coat hanger. "Outside to back. Door inside."
I hurried to the back of the station. There was another building attached to the garage. I opened the door and walked down a long hallway. This couldn't be right? What did he say again? I kept walking, around a corner and down another hallway. Where was the damn bathroom? I was about to turn around when I saw a door handle sticking out of the wall. It looked like a trick door- something you'd see in a movie. I unlocked it with the key and opened it. I gagged. It was DISGUSTING. Oh my GOD. I was totally grossed out but I was about to pee my pants so I shut the door and tried not to touch anything while I used the toilet. I rinsed my hands (of course there was no soap) and tried to open the door to get out. It was locked. Where's the lever to unlock it? There wasn't one. Just a keyhole. I tried the key. It wouldn't go in. Someone had jammed the keyhole. OH MY GOD I WAS LOCKED IN.  I started to panic. At least I had my cell phone! I looked in my purse but couldn't find it. Then I remembered I left it in the car to charge the battery. I banged on the door and yelled as loud as I could. Nobody heard me. I was going to miss my audition. The stench in the bathroom was making me sick. I looked around. There was a small window above the toilet. The only way to reach it was to stand on the toilet seat and hoist myself up to the top of the stall. There was shit on the walls and the floor. I doubted I could fit through the window. I broke down and cried. I lost track of time. Had it been an hour? Two? It felt like 24. I was getting hysterical. I had to calm down. My therapist told me to take ten deep breaths when I felt an anxiety attack coming on... it worked. I felt better. Then, SURVIVAL MODE kicked in...
I would go for the window. 
First I had to take my heels off. (I was wearing a dress and heels for the audition- AWESOME.) This was a nasty moment. I had to walk barefoot on the bathroom floor. I gagged again. Now I had to step on the toilet seat in order to reach the top of the stall. I counted to 3 and attempted to hoist myself up but it was too high. I fell back down, my foot slipped on the toilet seat and I ended up stepping in the toilet. I almost puked.  But I had to try again. It's amazing what you can do when you have no other options. I hoisted myself up a second time, and was able to pull myself on top of the stall. The window was smaller than I thought. Bugs and cobwebs and dirt were caked around the edges of the window pane. I cringed. I tried to push myself through the opening. My head and neck got through, but my shoulders were too big. I tried to shove myself through anyway, and ended up getting my hair caught on the window latch. It got all twisted and knotted and my arm was stuck underneath me so I was unable to move. My head was halfway out the window.  I looked at the dead grass and dirt in front of my face. It freaked me out. It was a hot day. I knew the cockroaches were waiting, hiding, somewhere in the grass and probably in the walls all around me. I tried to hold my head up, to avoid touching the dirt but the panic was setting in. I tried squeezing my shoulders through again but my hair kept getting more and more tangled and now I couldn't move at all.  
"SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. It was useless. I was doomed. 
I heard the bathroom door open. THANK GOD!
"Please help me!" I begged. I couldn't see the person who entered because my head was stuck outside the window. 
"Oh my God? What the fuck?" It was a female's voice. 
This was humiliating. 
"How long have you been stuck in the window?" She asked.
I was annoyed. 
"TOO LONG!" I said. "Could you help me get down? My hair is caught on the window latch and my arm won't budge."
"Wow. That sucks. I can't believe you're stuck in a window."
I didn't want to have a conversation about it!
"Can you PLEASE GET ME OUT?!"
"I can't reach that high- I'll get the cashier."
I wanted to DIE.
A few minutes later, an ENTOURAGE of people were in the bathroom. All they could see was my ASS sticking out. (I regretted wearing a DRESS for the audition.) They were all trying to figure out how to get me out of the window.
I suggested someone GO OUTSIDE and untangle my hair, then push me back in. A minute later, the cashier appeared above me. He was trying not to laugh. I wanted to punch him. 
He tried to untangle my hair but it was all knotted and weaved into the window latch. I yelped each time he pulled. We had no choice. It would have to be cut. The cashier left and returned with a BOX CUTTER. 
"You don't have scissors?!" I asked him. 
He didn't.  I had no choice. I told him to do it. OF COURSE, the blade was dull and it hurt like HELL- I felt like Ponyboy in THE OUTSIDERS when Johnny had to cut his hair to disguise themselves. I winced as he ripped and pulled and finally set me free. A huge chunk of my hair was gone. Why did I always find myself in these weird FREAKISH situations? Now I had a huge bald spot above my ear. I was balling my eyes out as I jumped in my car and sped to the audition.
I parked illegally and ran into the casting studio. A dozen other actors were sitting in the waiting area. I hurried over to the secretary. She looked me up and down. I was dirty and sweaty and had a huge bald spot above my ear.
"Hi, my name is Amy Wade, I'm here for an audition."
"What was your appointment time?"
"Um, 12:30, I'm a little late."
She looked at me in a condescending manner.
"It's one o'clock. You're a half hour late."
"I know, I'm very sorry." How could I tell her I got stuck in a bathroom? "I ran into some problems. You wouldn't believe it if I told you." I said in a lighthearted way, trying to gain her sympathy.
"No, I wouldn't. You may go now."
"Thank you!"  I couldn't believe it! They were going to take me right away!  I headed toward the casting door. 
"Where do you think you're going?" The secretary called out to me.
"To audition- you said I could go now."
She waited a moment, then smiled. "I meant, leave the building."
I stood there, feeling like a total HEEL, wishing I could melt through the floor. The actors in the waiting area looked at me in shame and disgust. 
When I got back to my car there was a ticket on my windshield. That was awesome. Then my "new" agent called to see how the audition went. I told him what happened. He said I should have come up with a better story. Getting stuck in a bathroom was the lamest excuse he'd ever heard. He told me to find another agent. 


I drove home, totally defeated. "Why me?" I asked myself. 
The voice in my head replied, "Because being you SUCKS."