On Making Off: Misadventures Off-Off Broadway Read Online Free Page A

wanted to live.

NOT THAT KIND OF GAY
     
     
     
    In less than two months, I landed my first New York acting gig. Scanning the trade papers for auditions, something I did once a week, I noticed a casting call for the touring production of a play called Making Porn . I had seen Making Porn , a very entertaining sex comedy about the gay porn industry, in Los Angeles. While the play focuses on beefy porn stars and a bounty of gratuitous nudity, the sympathetic boyfriend role didn’t require hunkiness or nudity—a perfect part for me. Not that I’m shy about getting naked on stage, I’d done Hair in college. But there is a very big difference between hippie-naked and sexy-naked. Anyone can be hippie-naked, but sexy-naked requires countless hours in the gym and a kiss from the genetic gods.
    After my audition, both the producer and the playwright immediately told me I was exactly what they were looking for. Two days later, at 7 a.m., my phone rang.
    “ Randy, it’s Karen, the producer from the Making Porn audition.”
    “ Hi, Karen! I wasn’t expecting you to call so soon.”
    “ Well, we really loved your audition and want to put you in the next show. We’re working on a Boston run, but that’s probably not going to happen for a while. In the meantime, we have a bit of an issue. Have you seen Peepshow ?”
    Although the auditions had taken place in the theater where All Male Peepshow was currently running, I didn’t have 50 spare dollars for new shoes, let alone an off-Broadway play.
    “ No. I haven’t seen it, but I’m sure it’s good.” I really wasn’t sure, but it never hurts to suck up.
    “ Well, we have a cast member who is leaving, and we need someone to take his place pretty soon.”
    “ How soon is pretty soon?”
    “ In three days,” she responded with urgency and conviction. “We’ll need you to come down and see the show tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll put you backstage to shadow the actor you’ll be replacing, and then you’ll go on the next night. Can you memorize lines quickly?”
    “ Yeah, lines shouldn’t be a problem. Three days. That’s fast…”
    “ We’ll pay you 200 dollars a week,” Karen interrupted. “Stop by as soon as you can and pick up a script.”
    She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Of course, I could have said no. But it was an off-Broadway show—albeit a non-union show with producers that seemed a bit shady. But I could use the 200 bucks, and I really wanted to get on the boards. So, of course, I agreed and berated myself for even entertaining the idea of saying no.
    “ I have to go to work, but bring the script to the show, and I’ll pick it up when I see you.” I hung up and did a little victory dance on my bed. This move was paying off.
    That night, Bobby and I met Karen in front of the subterranean Actors Playhouse on Seventh Avenue in the West Village. A heavyset woman in her mid-30s, Karen seemed nice but a bit pushy.
    “ Randy, glad you made it. Jonathan, take these programs to the booth. Let me get your script.”
    Leaving no space for me to talk, she kept barking orders to the cadre of young employees hovering all around her.
    “ Beth, can you run down to my house and get Randy his script? It’s in a red binder on the dining-room table.”
    “ I can pick it up after the show,” I offered, taking my cue from the disgusted look on Beth’s face.
    “ Don’t worry, Beth will get it for you. Hurry up, Beth, I need you to take over the box office when you get back.” And with that, Beth sped out into the West Village crowds. “Here are your tickets. Take notes. You’ll be playing the role of Shane. Don’t worry about learning everything. Concentrate on the entrances and the exits. You can make the part your own once we get you into the piece.”
    A shot of fear suddenly flew through my gut. I recognized the feeling immediately. A few years earlier, I was playing a plebeian in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar , and the Soothsayer’s car broke