Headshots were Black and White.
Your floorboard was covered in trash, old sides, fast food bags and the “Bible of Southern California.” The Thomas Bros. Guide.
You had a pager. For your Agent to contact you. But you had that one friend who would always send you, “58008“.
You walked into the audition waiting room. Psyched and ready to go. Knowing that you were made for the part. Then you noticed everyone whispering their lines over and over to the walls, looked exactly like you. Dressed like you. Had the same hairstyle. And you were suddenly hit with the realization,”You’re unique. Just like everyone else.”
While you waited for your turn to read, you listened to the muffled voices inside the audition room. If you heard nothing, it might be good. If you heard laughter, it might be bad. If you heard applause…
You networked at brunch. You said, “Let’s do lunch.”
You could still sneak on to a studio lot and drop off your picture and resumé to a production office. Then find the commissary and grab a bite.
A billboard with a mysterious platinum blonde, with her bright pink Corvette, greeted you. Her phone number displayed in the corner. Angelyne.
The Marlboro Man actually smoked a cigarette.
Tower Records gleamed on the corner of Sunset and Horn.
Women wore leg warmers.
The Casting Director smoked in the room while you read.
It was a beautiful, messy, dangerous and exciting time.
It was Showbiz!
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