Come to the 31st floor of a luxury apartment building on Wabash Avenue. Get on the couch and work for 20 minutes, and you'll be able to afford groceries for the next two weeks.
Do I look ashamed?
Yesterday, I did something dirty. I set back human relations by an almost undetectable increment. I walked on my name and my heritage, and for what? Another step along the pipe dream path toward a so-called film career.
I allowed myself to be type cast.
I'm sorry. But what's a southern boy to do? I already have some experience in the industry, I own overalls, and I needed the money.*
So when Mintel offered me the opportunity to play a yokel in one of their web ads, I didn't say "no." If only I'd known they would spew parts of my session all over the internet.
I'm so ashamed.
Please don't show anybody that video footage. Especially not people who would want to cast me again. The fact is, I'm afraid that I enjoyed it a little, and if the phone kept ringing with these kinds of opportunities, I might wind up making it a lifestyle.
Oh no. What if I already have?
*Plus, I've been looking for another opportunity to write about my acting career in sexually ambiguous terms.