It had been close to four months, I had gone on about six interviews and I had yet to impress one person. Since my original goal when moving to Hollywood was to become an actress, head of Entertainment Marketing, a writer, or Publicist somewhere, I was surprised when the offers were not rolling in. This was going to be more difficult than I thought. I was lucky enough to receive my first interview for a Junior Agent with a Modeling Agency. I would have the power to choose who is pretty enough to model. This was my chance to save face for all the gingers out there. The next part of the phone call took a slight turn:
"One more thing, Claire; MTV will be taping the interviews for a new show called, Hired. You will need to meet with a career coach before the interview so he can give you a few tips for the interview. This will also be on tape. It's a real position, it just so happens the interviews will be taped. No big deal."
"Oh wow, OK, that's fine," I said. "as long as we are focusing on the job at hand."
"Of course, there will just be a few cameras there documenting the process. You will hardly be on tape. I have included a contract you will need to sign and send back before the career coach interview. Talk to you soon!"
I signed the contract without reading a single word.
Like I said, I turn into a different person when the word 'interview' enters into the mix, so now not only do I have one interview with the Model Agency, I have two and they are taped. Perfect. Needless to say, the day of the career coach meeting I was not excited. I had a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball and the only way to get passed this was a shot of Jameson. I didn't think this was the best career move so I opted for a sugar free Red bull to get my high. I was put in a room with two other girls. We were getting ready for our meeting with the career coach when a production assistant came in the room to put a microphone down my shirt. This was farther than I had gone with my 8th grade boyfriend of six months (that is like a three year relationship in middle school). Anyways, the whole 'you won't even notice the cameras are there' thing...lie! I was asked to walk out of the waiting room, down the stairs and to the interview room. I was then told to stop, turnaround, now walk back to the end of the hallway, up the stairs and begin walking again on the count of three. I repeated this several times until I cued to walk into the interview room. Completely normal.
The career coach told me I needed to get rid of the large 'trapper keeper' I was carrying. First helpful and humiliating tip of the day. I might as well brought in a rolling suitcase. For this position, I would need to be able to read people's moods. He asked me what I thought of his mood that day, my response, "You are chipper and professional." What the hell did I just say? Not to worry, I could just resort back to the tapes! The interview ended with an awkward handshake and another dig at the 'trapper keeper'. The post-interview was held on my way out of the building. It was only me talking to the camera which was a disaster. I couldn't put sentences together and I couldn't answer the questions in a full sentence like they asked me to do. Finally they told me not to worry about it and just leave.
I went to the actual interview a week later which didn't go much better. In the waiting room, I sat next to a short, young man whose previous job was as a Junior Agent in New York. I would've walked out right there, but I was being documented on video. My resume consisted of Arnold's Tavern, The Lincoln Journal Star, Pinnacle Bank in Havelock, and Wet Seal all in Lincoln, Nebraska. My name was finally called and it was time to show off my beaming personality to a partner at the agency. He began talking to me about Nebraska, like every interviewer does, maybe they believe it will get me in my comfort zone. What they don't know is I have no comfort zone. He asked me the normal questions; why are you right for this position? Why do you want to work here? Why are you turning bright red when you speak? OK, he didn't ask that last question but I know he wanted to. Then, he asked me a not so typical question, "Do you know what a 'comp card' is?"
I sat there in silence. I knew that my answer could either be extremely wrong or exactly right. I'm sure you can guess the latter.
"Ummm...I'm not positive," I stammered.
"Just guess, no big deal," he said.
"I think it's a card you get and use so you don't have to pay for anything. The entire purchase is free or 'comped', I said, totally unsure and ready for my back lashing.
"I mean, that's a good guess, but...no," his words were more of a stab to the throat, where my stomach was the past 2 weeks. "It's a card displaying the models sample pictures, head shots, info, etc., like those on the wall," he pointed to the 100's of comp cards on the wall.
Good research job, Claire. I decided this was the end of my career as a Model Agent. I gave a nice, firm handshake and left this man who I hoped to never see again. Not because he was rude or unprofessional, but because I looked like a douche.
The show later appeared on MTV. (If you look this up and I find out, you can consider us defriended). I started getting texts and calls from people I hadn't heard from in months or even years who said they just saw me on MTV. Yeah, you saw me, I look green, bloated, and stupid, that's the end of it. It's true what they say though, the camera does add the 10 lbs of baby fat I thought I shed a few months ago. The interviewer from the Model Agency told the millions/hundreds of MTV viewers that I was 'too nice' for the job. I needed to have a thicker skin to be a Junior Agent. I have to say, good thing I had never heard of a Junior Agent position before this interview; otherwise I might've been pretty upset.
What I took away from these two death-defying interviews was I didn't do half bad; I was chosen from hundreds of resumes, I didn't get a terrible critique from the interview, and I made my tv debut. Looks like my dreams of becoming a Hollywood star were finally coming true....
I got the job!
Just kidding. The short guy did.
