Performance Artist Chapter 1

“Yeah, acting is going great!  I’m already getting a TON of gigs!” I said excitedly to my mom on the phone.

She said something encouraging back, but I couldn’t pay attention to her.  My heart was too busy sinking.  They had been nothing but supportive of me, in my quest to be an actor in California.  The lights, the stars!  The shitty apartments, the endless rejection.

“Well Mom, I gotta get to reading this script.  Memorizing your lines is the key to getting ahead in this business, you know,” I said.

We exchanged ‘I love yous’ and ended the call.  A storm was coming.  I could sense it.  There were clouds outside and they looked like they were ready to pour.

I was an idiot.  I thought being 5’2 and somewhat handsome would help me get work.  I could be a star that played opposite a big buff guy.  I could play a young kid in high school.  There were so many roles, I assumed, for a guy as short and skinny as I was.  Surely Hollywood would be knocking down my dingy apartment door trying to get me the role of a lifetime, a role that would solidify my place in movie history.

Crickets.

Like I said, I was an idiot.  Sitting at my used coffee table that also served as a dinner table and also a place to catch my tears, I flipped through the wanted ads.  Job after job I wasn’t qualified for.  Even the easy jobs were bad; I arrived here and immediately began waiting tables, but the guys kept making short jokes, and I mean both the employees and the patrons.  It got so bad they had to let me go.  My boss called it a ‘mercy firing.’

I had been a janitor, but I wasn’t strong enough to use the equipment.  Even the females who were more considered housekeepers could lift some of what I was struggling with, and they made fun of me, often in another language.  I came back to the boss one day, and he just chuckled and shook his head.  I knew what he meant.

I flipped through the pages, knowing the light could turn off any day now.  There had to be something in here for me, something that didn’t take a lot of strength, size, whatever it was a man was supposed to have that I didn’t.  My fingers stopped flipping.  It was as if they saw something my eyes didn’t.

It began raining outside, and I watched as water splattered on my window, fogging up my view of the outside world.  My gut was telling me to follow my hand.  I looked at my right index finger, and noticed it hovering over an ad:

PERFORMANCE ARTIST

Do you have a unique look?  Have you always been labeled as ‘DIFFERENT?’  WE NEED YOU.  Come to our office immediately and we’ll book you as a PERFORMANCE ARTIST!  Pay is per booking.

I was so unclear as to what this meant.  Was this an acting gig?  Was it like… a stunt gig?  I found it very intriguing, nonetheless.  It combined my love of acting with… whatever this could be.

Thunder crashed outside.  An ill omen.  But ill if I didn’t take this opportunity, or DID take this opportunity.  The world is bad at communication.

I followed the address the next day to the office.  It was a pretty nondescript office, one of many suites in a building, with a logo saying Tim’s Performance Artists on a glass door and nothing more of note.  I pushed it open and walked inside.

A girl around my age (early 20s) was sitting behind a desk.  She leaned forward to get a good look at me.  I realized the desk was somewhat elevated, so my short stature was once again causing people to act weird.

“Good morning!” she said.  “Do you have an appointment?”

She was thin with blonde hair.

“Um… no…” I said.  “I just saw a help wanted ad, figured I’d look into it…”

“I see…” she said, sizing me up.  “You know, I think he’ll have a use for you.  One moment, please.”

She got up and walked through a door behind her.  I took a moment to look at the room, but there wasn’t much to look at.  It was pretty barren, with nothing on the walls.  Very shady, if I was being honest.  But I had already made it this far.  If he was going to kill me, might as well just get it over with-

“Well hello, young man!” came a voice from the doorway.

I looked over to see a man in his fifties, maybe sixties, with long, curly hair.  He had the energy of an 8 year old, I could see it in his eyes.  He wore a yellow tuxedo, and he wore it quite well.  I was impressed by his impeccable sense of style.

“Um… hello…” I said, still taken aback.

“Well now, they don’t make ‘em short like this every day, do they?” he asked, whistling and walking a circle around me.  I could feel his eyes scanning me up and down.  He had a flamboyant yellow cane and would occasionally prod me with it, using it to see how I looked at different angles.

I stood in place, not wanting to make any sudden movements.  I could tell the man knew what he was doing; he was in his element, and I didn’t want to upset that.  My eyes searched for the girl, to see if she could help end this sooner, but she had returned to her post and was now looking at a computer screen, uninterested.

“Debbie, didn’t we have the Robinsons?  Weren’t they looking for someone… slight?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of me.

“Yes sir, they are in need by this afternoon.  I was going to cancel it,” she said.

“I see…” he muttered, still taking all of me in, which wasn’t much.  “Tell me boy… What is your name?”

“Jack…”

“Jack, tell me, are you trying to be an actor?” he asked, putting a lot of gusto on the word ‘actor’ and rolling his r.

“Yeah… how’d you know?”

He chuckled.

“Sonny, I’ve been doing this a long time.  Your pose is that of a headshot.  I can see the twinkle in your eye, almost as if that light, that yearning for fame, is slowly burning out.”  Wow, he really cut to the core.  He didn’t play around when it came to tearing apart my dreams.  Part of me wanted to debate him, but the other part knew he was right.  I didn’t know what to do, so I said nothing.

“I can take you to Hollywood,” he said, giving me a wry smile and letting me see his perfect white teeth in the process.”

“You… You can?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Boy, I’ve seen it all and done it all.  Television, the pictures!  Music!”  He put one hand on my back and pushed me into his office.  As soon as I was all the way in, he yanked it shut with his cane.  “I’ve played at the circus, I’ve danced at the most lavish of balls.  I’ve held court with royalty.”

“Sounds impressive.”

“It IS impressive,” he said, finally sitting down.  “And you can have it too.  Work with me.  I can make sure your name gets out there.  There’s a place for a man like you.  I promise, I can see it in your future.”

“When should I-”

“Not when…” he said, suddenly whispering.  “How.”

I looked at him with concern.  In the brief time I had known him, I had never seen him frown.  But now, sitting at his desk, he seemed more determined than ever.  He had a look of great importance hanging on his face.

“How?”

“Work with me,” he repeated.  “I will schedule you for my gigs.  The people I work with almost always have connections to Hollywood.  One of them is likely to need you.  Therefore… you only need to work hard, and good WILL come of it, understand?”

“I-I think so-”

“I KNOW SO!” he bellowed dramatically.  A piece of paper launched from his hands and fluttered down onto the desk in front of me.  I looked back up at him and he was pointing a pen in my direction.  “Sign with me, and your work towards a star in Hollywood begins.”

I gulped.  I wasn’t really sure what all he was talking about, but damn it if he didn’t seem sure of himself.  What else did I have to lose?  I accepted the pen and signed on the dotted line.  His eyes watched the tip of my pen intently.

“Boy, you made the first truly great decision in your career.  I’m driving.”

-

His car was just as gaudy as he was.  It was a bright purple convertible, with fancy looking rims and a horn he loved to honk that played a little tune.  He truly was a living, breathing cartoon character, ripping down the highway at dangerous speeds.  He had little regard for any of the lives he was zipping past, nor myself, considering the amount of times I begged him to slow down.

Finally, we pulled off of the highway and into a residential area.  It was clear the people that lived here were well off, and we pulled up to a house made of brick with a beautiful front porch and a tire swing in the front.

“Sir… what are we doing?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it, and remember:  I do the talking,” he instructed.

He rang the doorbell.

After about a minute, a man answered, in his mid forties.  He looked at me, then over to Tim.  His eyes lit up.

“You made it!” he said.

“In the flesh!” Tim replied.

“Perfect, okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together.  “Go ahead and get set up in the living room, Sharon should be ready shortly.”

Tim nudged me forward, and we walked through the beautiful house and into the living room.  Everything looked so clean and beautiful.  I could only imagine what all of this cost.  As soon as we got to the living room, a woman in her late 20’s was sitting on one of the couches.  She had an icy appearance to her.  Something about her sent chills down my spine, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.  When her eyes met mine, a sly smile crept onto her face.

“Tim… this boy is perfect,” she said with a slight accent from I didn’t know where.  “Boy… take off your clothes.”

“Huh?” I asked.

Her eyes got really mean.

“I said take off your clothes.  You do NOT want me asking you again!”

I looked at Tim, and he nodded back at me.  I told myself I wasn’t going to do porno, but look where that got me.  I was trapped.  Nothing I could do now.  I sighed and pulled off all my clothes.

“Are we ready?” came a different woman’s voice.

“Good afternoon, Sharon!” Tim said.

I turned and almost fell over.  Sharon was a hugely fat woman, easily over 400 pounds.  She towered over me, with a calm smile on her face.  She was wearing an all black, leather bikini, with a couple of chains to finish the look.  I didn’t like where this was going…