The audition was for some soulless advertisement and the pay was shit. Van Man questioned himself as to what merit there was in it. He debated to skip out on the audition.
For years, The Van Man wanted the life. The actor's life. Auditions. The freedom to go to as many as he wanted. But he had imagined that by the time he turned thirty, the auditions would be for more fulfilling projects. Perhaps for film roles of a noble nature. A police officer torn between turning in his drug-running partner and his loyalty to the force. An ex-con seeking redemption but finding love in a small town. A priest faced with saving starving children in the Sudan in the midst of a rebellion. Instead, he had an audition for a guy giving a presentation in a board room. Fulfilling it was not. Full of something it was.
He thought about those starving children and the millions of other people just like them that would trade places with Van Man in a second. Starving, sick people born into shit. Horrible thoughts filled his mind. Flies and maggots squirming around on skeletal faces in the wastelands somewhere. Yeah, I'll go, he thought.
He drove to Hollywood and Van Man felt good about himself. He was a decent man. He would do it for them, the people who were hungry in those dark, lost places in the world. The people who would never know what toilet paper was. Or tooth paste. The ones who were just happy to breathe. Yeah, thought Van Man.
Van Man walked into the audition room and said hello to the scumbags. Fuck them, thought Van Man. He did the monkey-see monkey-do of the commercial audition and then it was over. The Director asked Van Man about the possibility of getting a haircut. Van Man explained that he would get a trim the next day and if they wanted him to get it shorter that would be fine. The Van Man drove back to The Valley. He thought about the shitty money he could make from the project and how it would help him pay for the thirty-five dollar haircut he would get. He did not think about the poor people lost in the dark.