Friday, May 20, 2016

Aspirations

  "Nice adjustments. Thank you", said the exhausted casting director. She had spoken those words enough in her life. Her pronunciation of them was impeccable. The Van Man smiled, thanked her and exited the tiny, off-white room. It was clear that she was more interested in eating lunch than watching another audition.
  Van Man walked outside into the warm, Hollywood day. That morning's overcast had broken up. The Sun laughed in victory. A white envelope, pinned to his windshield, had caught Van Man's attention. Motherfuckin' bullshit, thought Van Man. The green-lettered sign read: One Hour Parking. The van had not been parked for more than forty minutes. He opened the envelope. The ticket was for the van's expired tags. Motherfucking bullshit, indeed.
  The van rumbled as it turned a corner onto Cahuenga. A shirtless, piss-drunk man leaned on his car and pissed into the gutter. Bad audition, he thought and drove on to Burbank.
  The van pulled up to a red light by Warner Brothers. Van Man noticed a young dude standing on the sidewalk. He held a sign that read "Aspiring Actor" in big letters. Van Man could not read the smaller print and the light turned green. The Aspiring Actor grew smaller in the rear view as The Van Man steered. Fuck you, he thought. Get in line like everyone else. He had a show that night and the van rumbled on down the road.

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