“I am such a doormat,” I muttered as I patted a second layer of concealer under my eyes. I tossed my hair in a ponytail and wiggled into a pair of faded jeans, determined not to expend any extra energy primping.
I’d agreed to meet my friend, Sandy, at a local bar for one drink and was already regretting my decision.
I couldn’t say no to Sandy, or to anyone. After a tense week at work and a series of unpromising acting auditions across town, I wanted nothing more than a long-anticipated date with my VCR and couch. Yet, when Sandy pleaded for me to comfort her after a run-in with her ex boyfriend, I once again said “sure, why not?” instead of an honest “not a chance in hell.”
Why had I even answered the phone? I wanted to stay home and make love to a family-sized bag of Oreos, not grudgingly show up and listen to my friend’s boyfriend troubles.
Oreos? People? Why did the Oreos always sound like a better option?
A Friday night bar outing with Sandy was never an inexpensive proposition. With $23 in my checkbook, I’d worried all week about the money I was wasting pursuing my acting dreams. Acting lessons, head shots, time off for auditions – I’d spent nearly $1500 over the past few months, $1485 of which I didn’t have to spare.
“Why am I doing this?” I moaned as I checked the mirror for panty lines on my ass and cast a longing gaze at the Oreos on my counter. “Because, I’m an f**king doormat.”
The crowd at the bar spilled over on to the street, people jostling each other for a glimpse of the film crew staking out a corner of the bar. Intrigued by this development, I wished I’d worn better shoes.
I spotted Sandy immediately. Tall, sleek and gorgeous, Sandy held court wherever she appeared.
She looks pretty damn happy to me, I thought, feeling shame for my lack of a comparably fashionable outfit.
“Mary, you’ll never believe it!” Sandy yelled as she waved me over to a small table. “I was picked to be in a Bud Light commercial filming here tonight!”
Perfect. My months of schlepping to auditions around town hadn’t yielded me a damn thing and all Sandy had to do was walk into a bar and a television commercial threw itself at her feet.
“Wow! That’s so cool,” I offered as I slid onto the bar stool next to hers.
The ad agency crew bustled around Sandy and the handful of people selected for the commercial. I steeped in my own envy and planned my exit.
An ad agency representative approached our table, “Ladies, here’s your $1 payment and some forms to fill out. We’ll film you both in the next 15 minutes.”
Wait! This had to be a mistake! I can’t be in a commercial. I’m wearing sneakers!
“Have fun with it, Mary!” Sandy encouraged. “We get to be in a commercial!”
Her enthusiasm bolstered mine, and I decided to enjoy this evening, bad hair and all. And enjoy I did – shouting “I love Chicago!” and mugging for the camera through several takes and many more free Bud Lights. I headed home tired but exhilarated. My Oreo affair could wait another day; tonight, I was a star!
Several weeks later, while opening mail and wondering how I was going to pay for another session of acting classes, I nearly choked on my Ramen noodles. I’d received three checks from the Bud Light advertising agency totaling more than $1400. Apparently my ponytail and big mouth made me some money that night …
“Sandy, can you believe it?” I gushed. “I didn’t know we’d get paid for that Bud Light commercial. My check just came!”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I didn’t get a check!”
Apparently, “actors” with speaking parts earn residuals whenever a commercial airs on television while everyone else is paid $1 to keep his or her mouth shut. To this day, nearly 20 years later, I haven’t seen the commercial. It must have aired while I was out having fun (or more likely during one of my Oreo-induced food comas).
I’m linking up with the wonderfully supportive people at Yeah Write. Check out all the great writers on the grid and join in with your own story!
I’m not the only family member to be “discovered” on Chicago’s streets. Check out my daughter’s experience on the Food Network, Blink & You’ll Miss Her!