This afternoon Sammy let me know that the local university put up its “Theater auditions this way” sign. He called and found out that they’re going on all week, so he wants to go on Thursday night. I told him sure. He texted Boyce, and although Boyce generally never participates in these things, he knew he had to go because of tradition.
Sammy and Boyce first met Rachel when she invited me to a lecture that was going on at the university. When she asked me to go to a lecture, I said, “Why would you do that? Are you a college student?” She said no. “Is it about birds?” Again, no. “Dreams?” “No. And it’s not about gambling either. I just want to go. Do you want to?” Of course I said yes, though when I found out the topic was going to be bioethics and robotics I invited Sammy and Boyce along, too. I knew that if it was just me and Rachel, then I would say something about how robots freak me out, and how if we get to the point of having robots in our culture, I could see myself being one of those vigilantes who goes around destroying them and spraypainting on their chests, “NOT HUMAN.”
So Boyce and Sammy came along, and actually so did a couple of Rachel’s friends. The whole talk was too boring for me to even pay attention to, so nothing embarrassing happened. On the way off the campus though one of Rachel’s friends pointed at the “Theater auditions this way” sign. They talked for a second and decided it would be funny to go audition for a show. I couldn’t understand why this would be funny, but Sammy as you can imagine was pretty gung-ho about it. So we went into the empty theater where the director, an academic douche-master, was sitting in the third row with a couple sycophants to each side of him writing down the notes he mumbled into his fist. He wore a turtleneck, which for me ranks right up there with robots who look like humans.
Rachel and her friends went straight up to one of the toadies, did a bunch of whispering and pointing back to Sammy, Boyce, and I, then came back smiling. They said it’s the end of the night, but the director was willing to hear our auditions. The sycophant Rachel spoke with called out Sammy’s name. He turned to Rachel and asked real loud, “Why am I going first?” Turns out they were getting a lot of women auditioning so the director wanted to see some males. Sammy got up on the stage and said, “I’m a bit nervous here, so sorry.” The director waved his hand and said not to worry like he was some kind of merciful god. Sammy held his hands out and then from out of nowhere performed the entire scene from Family Ties where Tom Hanks plays Uncle Ned the drunk and gets angry at Alex P. Keaton. I don’t know why the director didn’t say anything, but the rest of us were entirely in shock. When Sammy got off the stage Rachel gave him a huge hug and told him that was unbelievable. I said, “I’m the one with the alcoholic uncle,” and then called to the director that I would go next.
Of course, once on the stage I realized I didn’t know a single word of the Family Ties scene, nor could I match Sammy’s dead-on impression of a young, scared Tom Hanks. So I did the next best thing, which was to list all the birds I knew. The director stopped me and leaned forward on the chair in front of him. He asked me if I knew this was supposed to be a dramatic audition. I didn't even want to be there in the first place, so I asked him if he knew that the hanging nest of the Golden Crowned Kinglet was a whole lot more impressive than Shakespeare. He got confused and looked at his toadies like he was suddenly floating. Then he told all of us to get out of his theater. He didn’t point--he wiggled his entire hand. “Get out. You’re wasting my time. All of you.”
Rachel didn’t give me a hug when I came off the stage, but she did pat my back and tell me I did awesome. We all walked outside and it was raining. Rachel and her friends offered to take us all out to eat, I think since Sammy was so impressive and I got yelled at.
The next year Rachel said she and her friends were going to go audition again. We all went again, but this time only the ladies auditioned. Sammy and I had enough of that, and Boyce just didn’t want to. One of Rachel’s friends recited some speech by Shakespeare, but then in the last couple lines started talking about Oscar Meyer hot dogs. She got cut off and asked to leave. When Rachel went up there she just listed a whole bunch of birds. The director looked at her with a vaguely familiar look, but then he waved her off the stage and asked his toadies why people wanted to waste his time.
Obviously Rachel can’t do that kind of thing anymore, and we don’t see her friends these days. But the last two years Sammy and I have continued to go sign up for auditions, and Boyce has continued to wait on the side of the stage. Every time we go the director has no memory of who we are, and every year we are asked to leave. Then we go have some drinks and toast Rachel. I say, "Remember when she just listed birds? Because that's what I had done the year before!" And we all clink glasses.
Boyce said he might even audition this year if he’s prepared, which means if he’s got his Uncle-Ned on.
