Sometimes its better to look good than to sing well. When I was first starting out on my opera career and still living in Columbus, Ohio, I would occasionally fly to New York for the day for an important audition. Id catch an early flight out of Columbus into Newark Airport, take a cab into Manhattan, rent a practice room for a half an hour, go to my audition, sing, catch a cab back to the airport, and arrive home in the early evening. All well thought-out and timed perfectly. Like clockwork. Or so it would seem. On one particular day, I had my itinerary planned out with no margin for error. If the company running the audition was running behind, Id miss my return flight. So I was keeping my fingers crossed, hoping everything would run on schedule. And it did. The flight landed on time, the cab was quick, the practice room warmup went without a hitch, and as I was walking to the building in mid-town Manhattan where the audition was, I glanced at my watch, and I was actually about 20 minutes ahead of schedule. Everything was perfect. Right. My routine for these type of auditions was that I would arrive at the audition space about fifteen minutes early, use the restroom, and then wait with the rest of the cattle till my name was called. I never liked to be in the waiting area too long. Too much nervous energy emanating off the other singers. I always liked to audition, almost more than I liked singing the role, but I hated being surrounded by so much nervous energy for that brief waiting time. So Im walking through Manhattan with a good five minutes to spare, when I pass a donut shop. The smell of fresh baked donuts was calling my name, so I stopped and turned back, and entered. After all, I had five minutes to spare, and a donut would be the perfect thing to take the edge off of my hunger, since I had no time for lunch. I went in and ordered a HUGE donut with a ton of thick, white icing. I paid for it, left, and wolfed it down walking the last few blocks to my audition. And it was delicious. Oh man, was it ever. So, I arrive at the audition space fifteen minutes before my scheduled time and I walk into the waiting area. I see the Mens room and Im just about to head that way when the door to the auditorium opens and a woman calls out, Daniel May? Yes, I replied. Were running a little bit ahead of schedule, she said, and we can take you now if youre ready. I pondered asking her if I could use the restroom first, but said, Sure, why not. I figured I could use the extra time to get a jump on the cab ride back to the airport. So I entered the auditorium and set my bag down, and removed the music that I would be singing. As I handed the music to the accompanist sitting at the piano, she gave me a very curious look. Hmm, i wondered. Whats up with her? I turned to the panel of three people from the company who would be deciding if I was the right singer for the role I was auditioning for. I announced the arias I was going to sing, but couldnt help noticing that all three of them were looking at me strangely, and it was disconcerting to say the least. Hmm, I thought, as something popped into my head. I turned my back to them for a moment and feigned that I was checking something with the accompanist, but I was actually checking to make sure my zipper was zipped. Whew. That was not the reason for their strange demeanor. Must just be my striking good looks. Yeah. I was sure that was it. I sang the two arias I had prepared as well as I had sung any audition and felt very confident as I gathered my music, thanked the accompanist, thanked them and left the auditorium. I was contemplating using the restroom before I left, but figured Id wait till the airport. I wanted the extra time in case NYC traffic became a problem. As I walked down to the street to hail a cab, there was an attractive young woman on the sidewalk with three or four suitcases next to her. Are you heading to the airport? I asked. Yes, she replied. Newark? I asked. Yes, she replied. Want to split the fare? I asked. Yes, she replied. Perfect. So we shared the ride to the airport. She was a female weightlifter, which surprised me because she was quite petite. And very attractive. I flirted with her the whole way, turning my charm up from the usual 10 to an 11. We had a great conversation and ride and when we arrived at my gate, I bid her adieu, thinking, I am so smooth. Oh yeah. So I walk in the concourse of the airport and search for the first Mens room. I walk in and am immediately met by a full-length mirror. I see my shined shoes, my green suit, my lucky audition tie, and my face with the red beard. And the HUGE glob; and if ever the word glob was used correctly, this would be it; a HUGE glob of white donut icing on the side of my beard. Yep. It was about the size of a quarter. Bright white against my dark red beard. As if to announce, I am an idiot, who cannot clean up after eating a donut. The accompanist had seen it, the people from the opera company had seen it, even my new girlfriend the weightlifter, who I had shamelessly flirted with, had seen it. Oh yes, I am so smooth. My agent called me the next day. I didnt get the job. What a huge surprise. They didnt want to hire someone who wasnt able to manage his simple personal hygiene. Didnt want me walking on stage knowing there might be a chance Id wolf down a donut with white icing between my dressing room and the stage. No sir. I dont remember what the opera was or who the company was that I was auditioning for, but I will never forget that donut. Donuts. Just when you think theyre your friend, they turn on you.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Apr 2014 13:10:31 +0000