Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #233

Casting Director, confused: “Okay, what exactly are you trying to say with this photo in your portfolio? It comes across as a little… odd. Help me out a bit.”

Jean, auditioning: “Well, I was conveying my glamorous side and showing that I can do high-society roles. I can hold my own against William Powell.”

Casting Director: “But William Powell will no longer be in this movie.”

Jean: “Oh my God! Did he die?”

Casting Director: “No, he just passed.”

Jean: “Isn’t that the same thing? Or is ‘passing’ one of those trendy Hollywood catch-phrases like ‘casting couch’ and ‘methadone clinic’ and ‘non-disclosure agreement’ that don’t mean anything to most other people?”

Casting Director: “He passed on the script, Jean, citing creative differences and a flare-up of alcoholism. Perhaps he got wind that his potential co-star might be wearing gloves for no apparent reason. What is that all about, Jean?”

Jean: “Oh, I’m glad you noticed. They’re made of calf-skin leather and they are the softest things ever. I bought them from a drag queen in Omaha while I was in a road production of ‘Oklahoma! Part Two!’ and the tour bus made a pit stop at a Stuckey’s. “

Casting Director: “There are at least three things in that last sentence that you should never have considered doing.”

Jean: “But the gloves. Aren’t they swell? Even if they smell like a pecan log and overpriced Coppertone.”

Casting Director: “Um, not really. They’re a little creepy. Were you prepping for surgery at the Bates Motel?”

Jean: “That depends. Is there a scene like that in this movie?”

Casting Director: “I don’t think there’s a scene like that in any movie. At least not until the 1970s when pharmacists start getting Executive Producer credit, but that won’t happen for a while.”

Jean: “Okay, then. No more gloves. How about my hair? It’s perfectly symmetrical.”

Casting Director: “That’s one way to put it. Another way to put it is back on the wig stand you took it from.”

Jean: “I see. Well, it seems we may have gotten off to a rocky start. How can we fix this?”

Casting Director: “By you leaving and not coming back until you’ve read the script and understand that the character you’re trying out for has nothing to do with high society, pointless accessories or ill-advised touring companies. Lorena Diddlespit is a country gal who doesn’t care about superficial things and lives a simple life, running her own farm and milking her own cows instead of turning them into gloves. That’s why the male lead in ‘Moo Shine’ falls in love with her, because she’s down to earth, speaks the truth, and doesn’t care about her appearance. Are ya smellin’ what I’m cookin’?”

Jean: “I do believe so. I need to find that Omaha drag queen again and ask him if he has any sisters who live on a farm and can show me what to do with a cow.”

Casting Director: “Well, I suppose that’s a start. I’m glad that you finally seem to understand that your physical appearance is not the key element of this role.”

Jean: “Oh, I completely understand. Does this mean I might get a callback?”

Casting Director: “Well, I wouldn’t count your chickens before the eggs are made into omelets. But I might reconsider if you can do some research and prove you realize this is about a serious method-acting role and not an opportunity to make it all about you.”

Jean: “I’ve totally changed. Swear. I promise to be less involved with my self-involvement.”

Casting Director: “Good. Now run on home and call that drag queen’s sister. I think the stunt cows would appreciate the effort. But before you go, I have one last question.”

Jean: “I’m more than happy to show my investment in this situation. Especially since my credit cards are maxed and they might repossess my hand couture.”

Casting Director: “Is that a Sealy Posturepedic mattress behind you?”

Jean: “Why, yes it is. I think the pattern complements my flawless skin tone and highlights the exquisite Max Factor lipstick I chose for this character. And the tufting of the mattress accents the cut of the gown I’m wearing, a wonderful piece designed by CoCo Givenchy to highlight my perfect breasts and-”

Casting Director: “You really can’t think of anyone but yourself, can you?”

Jean: “Of course I can’t. And that’s why I voted for Trump.”

 

Previously published. Some changes made for this post.

 

23 replies »

    • Sadly, there are many more in the vacuous line behind her. It’s not a straight line of course, because that would get to close to Devil Science. It’s more a cherry-picked line..

      Like

  1. Throughout I heard the voices of past movie stars, see. And was completely engrossed in that era, until, suddenly, “credit card”, umm, some alternate time line going on… like on “Legion”, perhaps? Humm…
    Fun read.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It must be said that as exquisite as that dialogue was, the comments took the stage on this one. That whole reference to T-dump and the Pussy Snatchers put me right off too. Can’t someone just rid us ALL (the whole world, not just America the Condemned) of that meddlesome twat grabber? Please??! Now I’m going to hit “like” on the comments. You have some – ahem – INTERESTING followers, don’t you? Perhaps YOU should run for Chief Operating Officer of the Country That Once Was Great! You’d have my vote!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Ba-da-ching! (That was my attempt at a rimshot) You led up to a perfect ending oh-so-perfectly, I’m in awe. 🤩

    Question: Did William Powell actually have a drinking problem or is that a bit of literary license?

    Liked by 1 person

    • License, as far as I know. I’m just playing off his “Thin Man” character. But it’s fair to say that LOTS of people drank quite profusely back then. I’ll do some research and get back to you…

      Liked by 1 person

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