At my previous restaurant, we had to fold the napkins so the seams were on the inside. This was very important. I spent a great deal of time folding napkins, up, across, across, so they opened up like little books when placed in front of guests. I trained the endless stream of new hires how to fold them, making them redo them if they folded them backwards, or if the seam was on the outside.
Its a small, petty thing, that maybe made a difference to a handful of customers over the years. Unless a napkin is folded like a swan, or contains chocolate, most people don't pay any attention to it, they just grab it and shove it in their lap.
Habits are dangerous things. At my new restaurant we don't fold the napkins, we roll them around the silverwear into neat little packages. No one in a position of power has ever expressed an oppinion about whether the seam should stay hidden or not, but when I'm doing my rollups I instinctivly tuck it away. I've trained myself to notice, to care even, about this tiny insignificant detail. Three years of having to care, has created a genuine sentiment, despite having full knowledge of just how rediculous that is.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Bait and Switch
I've been auditioning a lot lately, sending out the resumes, getting back the appointment, pouring my soul on stage in under two minutes, and waiting in trepidation for judgment to be pronounced. Thankfully I've recently been cast in not one, but two plays that should keep me busy through the middle of May. I can hang up my heels for a while.
The thing about auditions is that at them actresses present an enhanced, almost unrealistic version of themselves, especially in the way they dress. The table full of judges may only have two minutes of your time, but damn it if you're not going to look great during them. I obsess over my audition outfits the way I might over getting dressed for a first date; slacks, blazers, little dresses, lipstick and mascara, stockings and high heels. Its a tricky business. You want to look professional, like you take the theater you are trying out for seriously, but you also want to look the part. I'm more likely to wear a dress when auditioning for a period piece, I'm more likely to wear slacks when auditioning for a character who's older than me.
What doesn't change is that, should I be so luckly as to land the part, it all goes away. At my last audition, a callback for The Cat's Meow at Redwood Theater, I wore a little black dress with gold detailing, black strappy heels and red lipstick. When I showed up a few days later for the read through, I wore jeans, converse, and my hair in a ponytail. This new casual dress code will hold steady until the opening night party, when we all dress up again, this time to impress the audiance.
There's nothing wrong with the bait and switch, we all do it, its expected, part of the business. I look down on people who don't do, like the actress who wore jeans and a sweater to a callback for Neil Simon's Rumors, a play in which all the characters dress in evening gowns. There are exceptions, some people are so stinking talented they can get away with wearing Ugg boots to a Shakespeare audition, or backwards baseball hats, or torn jeans, but really, why risk it? So when May arrives and I'm facing that next lull in the schedule looking for a play to fill it, I know I'll reach for those heels, before walking into the audition room like I own it.
You have to bait...so you can get a chance to switch.
The thing about auditions is that at them actresses present an enhanced, almost unrealistic version of themselves, especially in the way they dress. The table full of judges may only have two minutes of your time, but damn it if you're not going to look great during them. I obsess over my audition outfits the way I might over getting dressed for a first date; slacks, blazers, little dresses, lipstick and mascara, stockings and high heels. Its a tricky business. You want to look professional, like you take the theater you are trying out for seriously, but you also want to look the part. I'm more likely to wear a dress when auditioning for a period piece, I'm more likely to wear slacks when auditioning for a character who's older than me.
What doesn't change is that, should I be so luckly as to land the part, it all goes away. At my last audition, a callback for The Cat's Meow at Redwood Theater, I wore a little black dress with gold detailing, black strappy heels and red lipstick. When I showed up a few days later for the read through, I wore jeans, converse, and my hair in a ponytail. This new casual dress code will hold steady until the opening night party, when we all dress up again, this time to impress the audiance.
There's nothing wrong with the bait and switch, we all do it, its expected, part of the business. I look down on people who don't do, like the actress who wore jeans and a sweater to a callback for Neil Simon's Rumors, a play in which all the characters dress in evening gowns. There are exceptions, some people are so stinking talented they can get away with wearing Ugg boots to a Shakespeare audition, or backwards baseball hats, or torn jeans, but really, why risk it? So when May arrives and I'm facing that next lull in the schedule looking for a play to fill it, I know I'll reach for those heels, before walking into the audition room like I own it.
You have to bait...so you can get a chance to switch.
Monday, February 21, 2011
In the begining
When I was a little girl I went to see a play. It was A Christmas Carol at ACT, back when that still officially stood for A Contemporary Theater. Like many plays of the holliday persuasion, A Christmas Carol is full of children. One of them wrote in her bio that she, "aspired to be a profesional actress/waitress". It caused me to chuckle at the time, but all these years later that little girls witty aspiration has stayed with me; perhaps because a profesional actress/waitress is exactly what I've become.
Or a semi-professional one, at any rate. I serve breakfast and lunch at a small Seattle area restaurant, write plays that get readings but not productions, and audition a lot. Its a life, a double life, I love it most of the time, and I've decided to share certain elements with you, blog readers, universe and general public.
Some posts will detail my life in the theater, both as participant and audience member, some will share stories of my life in the food service industry and some will explore the similarities and tensions that come from balancing the two. Names in the theater world will be revealed to promote the talented, names in the restaurant world will be changed to protect the crazy.
So, welcome, have a seat wherever you like, bring your comments, perspectives, gripes and good will, and don't forget to buy a cookie at intermission.
Or a semi-professional one, at any rate. I serve breakfast and lunch at a small Seattle area restaurant, write plays that get readings but not productions, and audition a lot. Its a life, a double life, I love it most of the time, and I've decided to share certain elements with you, blog readers, universe and general public.
Some posts will detail my life in the theater, both as participant and audience member, some will share stories of my life in the food service industry and some will explore the similarities and tensions that come from balancing the two. Names in the theater world will be revealed to promote the talented, names in the restaurant world will be changed to protect the crazy.
So, welcome, have a seat wherever you like, bring your comments, perspectives, gripes and good will, and don't forget to buy a cookie at intermission.
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