Day Two: Survived Asian Serial Killer, Ate an Angel

I would like to state, for the record, that I have slept a total of six hours since Wednesday night. Whatever parts of this don’t make sense, I’m too tired to care.

Day Two Rundown 
I made it to the convention center in a hair’s fraction of the time I was supposed to be there. We sat in a smaller auditorium than yesterday and were given the game plan for the day. If our contracts were good to go, we would proceed to have our physicals and psychiatric evaluations. We were all waiting for a good hour before we saw anyone again.
I was sitting off in the corner playing guitar and doing a couple of songs. There wasn’t much else to do. The cliques had been made pretty quickly, and I wasn’t invited into them. Off to the left of me was a tall, scrawny Asian guy, who apparently wasn’t invited into any cliques, either. But for good reason; he was scary as frick. He made everyone uneasy. He would lock his eyes on someone and just stare at them, not moving at all. I don’t think the guy blinked once.
He starts to stare at me, and stares with this look like I broke his chopsticks and ate his rice. I’m trying to just ignore it and play guitar, but… he couldn’t be ignored. He was right there. He kinda starts staring at this other girl, and goes back and forth between us like he’s trying to figure out which one to maim and kill. Women can communicate just with facial expressions. I don’t know if you men are aware of that, but we can. I sort of shrug to this girl and shake my head, and with her eyes, she asks me, “Is this guy for real?” I half-laugh, half-fly off the handle. She decides to play his game with him and just stares back. She never looks away, even when he does. This went on for I don’t know how long, and the guy finally stops.
Later when people start getting whisked away, the ones of us left behind are taking turns doing our acts and giving feedback to each other. You see people on both sides of the equation at this point. The ones who are really good are there, and the ones who… aren’t… are also there. I heard some singers that put me to shame, some dancers, a magic act, and something crazy involving nine hula hoops which would later be lit. (They call themselves Child’s Play, and basically turn all the games you played as a kid into Dante’s Inferno.) The muscles guy of the group asks Asian killer guy to do his thing. He gets up, goes out to the center of the room, and starts to, uh… “dance.” He walked us through every move he was doing, as far as what it was called, why he called it that, and yes, these were all dance moves he had created with his own sick mind. His grand finale was called the seizure. It looks exactly like what you would expect.
I was a bit worried about my evals. I mean, my tattoos, my back story… I wasn’t sure how much to tell. I know they’re like leeches when it comes to building your story for the stage, and they want as much as they can get. But, it’s NBC. How graphic do we want to get? So, I kept everything to a bare minimum. I’m not actually allowed to share the details of the interview, but I think 90% of it went very well, and I’m happy to say I’m healthy. And yes, by the way, Asian killer guy apparently passed his evaluations, too. I shouldn’t have been so worried, I guess. One guy was disqualified on the spot because of a heart arrhythmia. Remembering what my grandmother used to tell me growing up, “You don’t tell everything you know,” I just kept my mouth shut.

In other news, I discovered that there is a restaurant (the same chain I work at) almost within a rock’s throwing distance of the hostel I’m at. As soon as I saw the bright logo, I knew my life was going to be okay. (Have I mentioned that I love my job?) And it’s time like these that I wish I could tell you where I work, just so I could brag on them. Philadelphia is a cold, cold place. Some might argue that it’s because we’re so far up north, but I think it’s the people. But even in cold, cold Philly, I was greeted with a smile and a bright “Welcome!” I let out an audible, “Aww!” and then had to explain to the cashier that I was a fellow employee at another location. When I told her what I was doing and where I worked, they gave me my food for free.
Not only did I get my food for free, but they have what’s called a “Philly Cheese Chicken.” They insisted that I had to try it because they were the only location in the entire chain that offered it. All I can say is, my life has changed for the better. I didn’t know how deprived we were before I had this sandwich. Biting into this thing was like biting into an angel; a messy, cheesy angel with golden hair. I ate an angel. And I’m reminded yet again that I work for the greatest food chain in the entire world.

I have to be back at the convention center in the morning at five. But guess what I found out? Auditions for The Voice are tomorrow in the same place, same time. Someone asked a tech guy/camera guy/whatever he was if we could go audition for them. He said, “We own you there, too.” And since people will undoubtedly be asking, no… We cannot. But if I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m not going anywhere. …zzZZzz…

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