I was just at an audition today and as is often the case, there a bunch of models in the waiting room. Now, the only time I’m in a room with models and it’s my audition is when it’s the classic regular joe guy (or even worse schlub) and gorgeous girl spot. Therein lies the humor. It’s almost just a sight gag really.
But more oft than not, these girlies are just there for another audition. As they were today. What amused me was the guys in my audition, were chatting up the models. One of the models was more than willing to yak it up with my contemporaries. But she made sure to throw in a “my boyfriend this” and “my boyfriend that” just to let them know who’s who.
But see, I never talk to these girls. I know we are like oil and water(or vinegar for that matter). You can mix us together for a little bit, but it just isn’t going to stick for longer than you can eat a salad. But these guys are fearless. And I applaud that.
What they don’t seem to care about and I sorta do is, there’s a cliche about models right? It’s this: they tend to be a little bit of they “all the lights are on, but nobody’s home” kind of gal. For instance, today they were talking about how they got flown in and the gal said she didn’t know which airport she came in on or that was leaving. She said it’s Kennedy, is that the same thing as JFK? Umm… yes. It is hun. Also, they will practice their “looks” too. Like Blue Steel from Zoolander? It’s not so far fetched. I’ve caught them practicing their various smoldering looks in the mirror or just to the air around them. It’s hilarious. And yes, even though they look silly, they look good doing it.
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I was also thinking about Train Seat Theory. Whenever I go home I like to take the train. Because it’s a lot easier to get to Penn Station than to get to LGA or JFK(Or Kennedy) for me since I live in the zany jungle known as the East Village. I like it because you can stretch out, going to the bathroom ain’t no thang, it’s easier to take up a lot of room in the storage compartments without having to check stuff. And it’s long enough(3+ hours) to watch a whole movie. Plus I like the whole train thing. There’s something sort of romantic about it.
But the trains I take normally are pretty packed. And the worst part of the train ride is when the big board changes and you see which platform your train is coming in on. Everyone scrambles and runs to get on the train. Never mind that it’s a reserve train(everyone gets a seat). People are still insane about it.
So you’re faced with a decision. Where do you sit? You’ve got to decide quickly. Before I started taking my laptop, I would do something bold and unexpected. I would sit next to someone even before the empty seats were taken up. Why would I do such a thing? I figured the enemy you know is better than the unknown. If I were ever on “Let’s Make A Deal” back in the day, there’s no questino to me that you never try what’s in Door #3 if your prize is pretty substantial. Because sure, it might be better. But it could be a lot worse. A LOT worse. I’m talking like some six foot seven 300 pound mammoth dude who smells and eating a tuna fish sandwich worse.
So what I used to do? I’d sit by a pretty girl. Because why not? And it makes sense. The trains going to fill up. So why not accept this fact and make the most of the situation.
But nowadays, I take my laptop and watch a movie and I like to sit on the window seat so I can charge my phone and laptop. Hence, I pick the empty seats first. And hope for the best. I steel myself for the probability of someone distasteful sitting next to me. I create a stash of snacks and water and resolve not to get up to go to the bathroom too.
But one time, the Seat Theory really almost paid off because I sat next to some girl and we had to switch trains, so then we switched back and turned out she sat in business class. So I sat there anyway, and the conductor dude let me sit there because the train wasn’t too full. And we were both on our way to a wedding that weekend. Her brother was getting married. I was going to see a friend who had a sister. And he was the one getting married. I was hoping for full ro-co fulfillment that she would turn out to be my friend’s sister. But she wasn’t.
That’s my other point though, three hours on the train is long enough for something to happen. Something interesting like that. But when it’s only the hour on the plane, you barely have time to introduce yourself and you’re landing already. See, I like that little possiblity of adventure. And that’s why I prefer the train. Strangers meet on trains, not on the plane. I’ve also met the guy who wrote “Hands Across America”. I would never end up talking to him on the plane. But ah, the train. The train is where it’s at.
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My niece Kayla has a wish list that she showed me. It lists about 20 items. The really important one is “Baby Alive”. This is a doll that really poops in a diaper. She is beyond excited about this. I believe it because I watched her help Lou change Dylan. There was real live poop and she didn’t even flinch. Uncle Nay steered clear though. I am interested in neither real nor fake baby poop.
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