I am a die hard Minnesotan, born and raised on the outskirts of Minneapolis in a small suburb called St. Louis Park. Never in a million years would I, or anybody else for that matter, have deemed is possible that the Midwestern girl who drinks “pop” and “cahh-ffee” would wind up living in the Big Apple. Well it happened, last month to be exact I made the change from Country Bumpkin to City Slicker.

Upon my arrival, I landed a job interning at Fameball, where I have captivated access to the ins and outs of celebrities, fashion and the beloved entertainment world. Last week, my boss came across a few articles about the up and coming extras casting call for the “Sex and the City” movie sequel. After an overly animated conversation discussing the excitement of the idea, I found myself agreeing to attend the open call that would occur on the following week.

Yesterday I awoke full of nerves and excitement. Never having acted, I had absolutely no idea what to expect. SAG contenders, or in other words professional actors and actresses, were to audition between the hours of 10am and 12:30pm. Clearly being Non- SAG, or an aspiring actress, I was told to arrive between 1:30pm and 4pm. The preparation process was nerve racking to say the least. Why does it seem that having extra time before a big event makes the experience more stressful? With the extra time on your hands you can deeply, and I mean very deeply, analyze everything about yourself from attire, hair, shoes, smile. You are auditioning for “Sex and the City,” a movie where style and fashion are part of the cast. After endless wardrobe changes I ended up with the EXACT same outfit I began with: grey Le Sac dress from American Apparel paired with black vintage cowboy boots.  I quickly printed out the closest thing I had headshot: my senior high school picture taken the month before. My how things have changed.

I arrived at the Metropolitan Pavilion ready to take on the world. Located on 18^th Street between 6^th and 7^th Avenues the line didn’t look very long. Yay! I followed the line to the end of the block where I found a break thinking, This is too good to be true.” I entered between the break in the gated-in section along with a few other extra-hopefuls. Wrong! This was definitely not the end of the line; it was simply a way to manage massive amounts of people wrapped around a block like a ribbon on a present. After a few, ‘uh excuse me?!’s, some fantastically coordinated dirty looks, and the kind directions provided by the only friendly line-manager, the hopefuls and I were directed out of the gate and told to go to the end of the block. We walked from the corner of 18^th Street and 6^th Avenue to 19^th Street and 7^th Avenue before finally claiming a place in line. Now comes the waiting game.

For one to pinpoint a single cultural aspect to be more abundant than the other within this crowd would be a crime. The crowd was as diverse as they come: thousands lined up for their shot at the dream. Men and women, aspiring actresses accompanied by their moms, fashionistas, mid-life crisis types, and of course club goers dressed as if they were headed out to the hottest club, wearing the least amount of clothing and the highest heels they could stand in without feeling completely awkward considering it was 1:30pm on a Tuesday afternoon.

Surprisingly the line moved pretty fast, I entered the building at 1:30pm making it to the front entrance by 2pm. Within 20 feet of the door every woman (myself included) quickly dug into our purses pulling out boots, stilettos, and any other non-line friendly shoes and switched into them. After a quick check in the mirror, we were in!

Greeted with a much-needed blast of AC before entering the main floor we were given a yellow form and instructed to complete it. Excited that we were moving along at a swift pace I hit a brick wall: literally. The nicely organized single file line turned into chaos with hundreds of people shoved into the small, hot space. Here I waited for over an hour in a muggy, sweat infused horde of people somehow enjoying myself. “If you can make it there…”

Chatting up my fellow buddies, I quickly realized that I was not alone in my interesting trek to this event. Another young girl who recently moved from California decided to attend the casting call “just because she had some time”.  A guy who had been an extra in a Jane Fonda film 10 years ago and thought he’d try it out again. Also, I met two seasoned extras, one who had the opportunity to be an extra in number of films. She said the craziness factor of this particular casting call was unusual saying, “They’re not normally this bad”.

Finally, the moment was here! At about 3:05pm I was led through the door into the room. Lines formed around the rows of endless white folding chairs. I quickly whipped out my mirror and lip-gloss for some finishing touches and was ready for my close up. A station set up along the back wall had an attendant accompanied by a white backdrop and photographer. My audition went like this: walk up, say hello, hand over my wanna-be headshot and form, which were stapled together and placed in a pile. I then stood on an “X” to have my picture taken and just like that she said, “Alright you’re all set, Thank You.” Wait, don’t we get to chat so I can tell you my story? I am a Midwestern girl living in the big city? That was it, an uncomfortable hour and a half wait for a 1-minute chance to prove myself to the crew. I wonder if I made an impression?

Thus my day of casting call chaos came to a close. As intense and confusing as it was, I loved every minute. This is another experience I can add to my growing list of things that I believe can only truly be experienced in this city, New York. Any other time or place just wouldn’t have been right.

Written by Alise Hofstad – Parkhill