Karmic payback's a bitch...and so am I!

Note to anyone* who ever knew me in my previous incarnation as a copywriter: Dear Former Co-Worker of Mine Who Is Still in Advertising,

Boy! Long time, no time, huh? Where are you guys staying now, Shutters? The Viceroy? Or do you eschew the beach and stay in town? Or maybe you go super-downscale and fly under the radar at the Farmer's Daughter or that place attached to Swingers? ("You go"? That's a defunct car from the 70s! AD JOKE! HAHAHA!)

I guess it was a big surprise to see me on the audition tape the nice casting people here in L.A. sent to you, huh? I'll bet you even stopped eating or took the tape out of fast-forward search, like we used to do when we saw something weird or funny. Are those tapes still as looooong as they used to be? Boy oh boy-ar-dee, this town is lousy with actors, huh?

Of course, even I don't see many actors nowadays since it's been reeeeeeally slow lately. Like, for the last two or three years and stuff. You could shoot a cannon through most of those casting places on a lot of days and not hit anyone. Makes me wonder how much longer we'll both be able to make a living at this, huh? Yikes!

At least we can still run into each other now, like at my audition. Sorry, your audition! Although really technically, it was a callback. Oops, callbacks! One in the morning and then one just enough later in the afternoon for me to drive home, eat lunch and come back! Anyway, I thought something funny was going on when I showed up at the first one and all the other Casual Moms had blonde hair and were pretty. Then I thought maybe the director had called me in as a special choice, but I'd never met him before, plus he seemed to be laughing at everything the guy I was auditioning with did, not me. And then when he didn't remember meeting me four hours later, I was pretty sure something was up. Et voila! You burst out of the room with your big surprise like a naked lady jumping out of a cake, only you weren't naked or a lady and there was no cake.

Anyway, it's great to hear everything is going so well for you. And it's really amazing that all of you guys that I used to work with at the agency are still working there all those years after I quit. And boy howdy, it is QUITE a coincidence that I turned up on your audition tape. After all, I have only been doing this for 10 years and, wait...10 years? That's as long as I worked as a copywriter! Hahaha, oops! Better be careful...I'm dating myself! That's the kiss of death for an actor, right?**

Well, usually, that is. In this case, it doesn't matter much since (a) you already know how old I am and (b) you're not going to hire me, anyway. Come on...admit it. Come oooooooon! Because, seriously, I've auditioned for tons of you guys now (and mostly I've been able to remember your names, which I think is pretty amazing!) and the only one who ever hired me to act on their commercial is an art director who left the business to become a director. I mean, let's call a spade a spade, right?

But, hey, I'm all for catching up with old pals. Old business acquaintances, too!(And we are OLD now, right? Right? HAHAHA!) So next time you're coming in to town, send me an email or give me a call. Let me know which fancy hotel you're staying at and I'll meet you there for a cocktail, on you, after working hours. You know, all those hours during the DAY that I drive from Assmunch to Albuquerque, auditioning, like I did for you, only for real, to get actual jobs and stuff.

That's about it. Enjoy your stay in sunny Los Angeles! And good luck with that commercial you didn't cast me in! I probably won't see it since I don't watch much TV anymore, but I'm sure it'll be really hilarious and great and keep the fires of broadcast advertising going strong for another fifty years. And even if it isn't, you'll have a great time in Vancouver or New Zealand or wherever it is you get to go shoot it!

Ciao, bellas!

xxx c

*And, while this letter was inspired by a recent incident, I do mean "anyone". You know who you are, you devils, you!

**Actually, this might be the kiss of death. Can you get dooced if you're self-employed? Or would this be more of a blacklist-type thing?

Photo of the communicatrix by Thomas Lascher