audition schmaudition

Years ago, when I was working part-time as a lifestyle model and launching a fledgling talent agency with one of my best girlfriends, people always used to ask me if my kids "work" in the industry...and my answer was always, "No".

Then one day, when I was called for a Scotties tissue audition to play "mom", the casting director asked if I had a son between the ages of 5-7 who could 'sneeze on command' and of course I replied, "Yes". I mean, I can teach a kid to fake sneeze in a day....right?

Right.

Besides, running a child talent agency meant that I should have first-hand knowledge of the experience I send my clients and their parents off to. So off we go, Paolo, Lola, my mother-in-law, and I head to Los Angeles. Oh the joy of that drive. But...the numbers were good on this one, and we had a chance....right?

Right.

We arrive on time, actually a little early, in typical Aubri fashion... and I go ahead and take Paolo inside, leaving my poor mother-in-law to suffer the wrath of an impatient, hungry, and tired Lola. Sure that upon my return, be it twenty minutes or two hours, Lola would have her bound and gagged in the car and would be working the corner of Hollywood Blvd and Ivar.

After sitting forever in the waiting room and about a thousand practice sneezes next to kids in velour robes, boasting names like Jag and Jet, they called us into the tiny room where the magic (is supposed to) happen.

After a quick rundown of our roles, and a reminder for Paolo to "pretend the other people and cameras were not in the room", Paolo performed on cue as instructed. A dramatic "achooo" or "wachooo," for some, came out at the perfect time and I, as his adoring mother, reached out kindly with my Scotties in hand and wiped the imaginary snot from his now Hollywoodized nose.

Ahhh, a perfect moment, staring into eachothers eyes, we had almost made the perfect audition clip...when Paolo begins to slowly lean backwards....and continues all the way over over until he can make inverted eye contact with the 'audience' in the room, and sputters through an unrelenting giggle, "I'm looking at the camera upside down!"

NO, NO, NO, "that wasn't supposed to happen," I thought. My perfect moment destroyed by a five year old's brief brush with delirium. We can recover from this right?

Right.

And then, just when I thought we might still escape with a shot in hell of landing the job, Paolo leans into the casting director and says, quite kindly I might add, "Where's my two-thousand dollars? My mom said you'd give me two thousand dollars." Long drive bribery backfiring, big time.

And with that, I turned to bury my head, somewhere near my ass, thanked the nice ladies and gentlemen, and left.

No, my kids do not 'work' in the industry.