The Auditions, The One-Liner, And A Dance-Off
(The image above is from one of the three plays I acted in Artistang Artlets. Can you see me there?)I told Jon beforehand that I'd given him freedom to present the play according to his interpretation. Besides, I hate those messy writer vs. director battles. Hey, my Dad is a director in our kiddie show, and guess who always wins?
The casting needed for my script was a little demanding. For one, there are four guys in the play (three of them should have equal height and built). And although I envisioned the gay roles as the flamboyant type while typing the script, Direk Jon opted for a "softer" approach, which is cool.
The auditions became a mini-reunion of sorts. Some of my batchmates, seniors, and juniors attended, and I just couldn't help but to greet each other with a "beso" and a wide grin.
After the auditions, at nighttime, some of us decided to dine at the newly-built "UST Mall," which is actually a multi-deck parking lot surrounded with fast food outlets, including KFC. We went to Dimsum and Dumplings instead and chowed down on dumplings with rice.
The highlight of the dinner was when one of the org's current members gave out "one-liner" predictions which was fun, especially to those whose one-liners apprently are quite accurate.
What she told me? "It's all but temporary."
I knew what she meant by that.
I can't tell you. Remember the non-disclosure agreement?
The night was still young and, since we hadn't seen each other for quite some time, we went to a local bar called "bigskymind". I honestly wanted to leave way early and not join them at the bar, since I was short of money. But then again, a night of bonding would have been cool (beside, I borrowed "some" money).
We sat on the second floor, an art gallery filled with different lighting fixtures were installed. To make a long story short, we were quite drunk and then the bar's stereo blared with "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred. My orgmates began to prod me.
"Sayaw, Maruja! Sayaw!"
Oh no. They were commanding me to dance again for the nth time. Welcome to my crazy college life.
But of course, I can't refuse. Everybody's having fun. I don't wanna spoil it.
"I'm shy," I replied as I began swinging my hips.
I skipped, I gyrated, I swayed and bended in the art gallery. Everybody was happy.
The next thing I knew, an unexpected guest climbed the stairs and saw my little mischief. It was Julia Clarete, a popular TV host and actress. She was wearing a lovely bohemian dress and dared me for a dance-off.
You wouldn't refuse this one, would you?
Let's just say we were upstaging each other. And when somebody shouted "Show some flesh!", I took my shirt and flashed my fat hairy chest for everybody to ogle (and laugh at).
Julia tried to exorcise me upon seeing that. It was all good.
And then we did a walk-off. Of course, I worked for a modelling agency. This should be easy. I began putting my chin up, pouted my pretty lips, and walked (I suppose) like an Elite Model.
I'm a model, you know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk. Yeah, on the catwalk. On the catwalk, yeah. I shake my little tush on the catwalk.
Other gay orgmates joined in the ramp frenzy. Everybody was laughing their hearts out with our modelling antics, and we even got to interact with a celebrity without joining a fan club or subscribe to an SMS service.
I told you my life is exciting, or somewhat crazy.