I am not an actress. I prefer writing over most things (aside from sleeping, eating and dressing my dog up in cute outfits). The last time I remember auditioning for any sort of play was in the 8th grade. I auditioned for Beauty and the Beast and got the role of the semi-slutty feather duster with a french accent. It was a fun experience, but not one that I think about often. Recently, I saw that my school was having auditions for a play called the Vagina Monologues. Keep in mind that I have not actually ever seen the play in its entirety. I took a wild guess that it was about vaginas and I think vaginas are super cool. After all, that’s most likely how you came into existence, unless the stork played a large role in your birth and Santa still brings you presents. I was feeling particularly spontaneous one night and needed some good material for my blog since I’ve been MIA for most of the semester. (Once again, if anyone wants to pay me to write these posts, I will gladly drop out of college. The offer will stand until I graduate. And maybe after that.) I walked into the auditions similar to the way I imagine a man in a business suit walks into a strip club: excited, confused and ready to see vaginas.
I was number 56 – though I did envision myself being number 69 since I thought that would be fitting. I sat down to fill out a questionnaire and choose the monologue I would be auditioning with. The first few questions were basic: name, email, etc. Then it asked if I had any acting experience. I figured being a tour guide would help me a little more than putting ‘none whatsoever,’ so I talked about how I was comfortable in front of decently large audiences. The following two questions were ones that I had never asked myself: 1) If your vagina could talk, what would it say in three words? 2) If your vagina got dressed, what would it wear?
Why had I never thought about this before? Clearly she has feelings too. For the first question I answered:
I love tati.
For the second question I answered:
A crown, FOR SHE IS QUEEN
For the following hour, I rehearsed my monologue (like a goddamn pro). There were three monologues to choose from. The first one was half serious/half funny, the second one was all funny and the third was all serious. Knowing myself, I knew I would royally fuck up anything that was meant to be serious. I decided to go with the funny one. It was about a female sex worker/dominatrix who only dominated other women. She was someone I could see myself going to Starbucks with occasionally and I liked that about her.
I awkwardly walked into the classroom and was greeted by four directors. They were all super friendly and told me I could begin whenever I felt comfortable. Comfortable was a strong word to use in this particular situation. I knew if I didn’t mentally yell at myself to start the first line, it would never happen:
I love vaginas.
After I got the first line out, the rest was easy to recite. The whole audition itself is a blur, but I know for a fact that I looked into each of the directors’ eyes and made a noticeable hand job motion when I was forced to use the word ‘dildo.’ I felt like this was the best way to make a lasting impression.
And it worked. I have now been cast in the vagina monologues as woman #3. *Drops mic and walks out.*