I Feel Petty

There is a Hell on Earth and it is a Nike call-back. Yup, that commercial I auditioned for almost two weeks ago. Apparently, over the course of eleven days, the monkeys at Nike have finally reviewed the audition tapes, thrown some feces at the wall, and narrowed down their choices of potential singing doormen... to ten. Ten!? That's not a call-back, that's a passing of society's delinquents through a sieve.

Regardless, I figured the audition at least reinforced my Warm-Up Technique of Death. It's where I imagine my fellow auditionees in their final moments, when God tells them that they've led a meaningless life filled with extra looks in the mirror and an unnatural attention to the sound of their voice. As with every audition, this fantasy had plenty of inspiration. Again, the waiting room had "I Feel Pretty" playing out of a boombox on repeat. I assume this droning ambiance was to make sure we hadn't forgotten the melody after the first 58 times. Brainiac that I am, I felt insulted by this pandering... until I realized that this was a room filled with actors, so I ceded this point. The true suffering came from the guy across from me. He resembled a handsome android and was singing his heart out on every turn of the song, furrowed brow and all. Of course I said nothing nor looked his way, since I'm actually a scared little boy with a spine of jello. But who was this guy to remind me of that?