Costume Jobs

Everyone has had those terrible entry-level jobs, the memories of which you can only hope will fade with time and tequila. But for most of us it was just working at a fast-food joint, where the most embarrassing thing that could possibly happen was taking an order from the hot guy in your chemistry class while wearing a foam visor. For struggling performers in New York, finding themselves in an unflattering headdress would be ever-so-much better than finding themselves in an entire foam bodysuit. This morning I passed this poor girl dressed for all the world like a giant cup of coffee standing in the middle of Grand Central Station trying to get people to visit some low-rent greasy spoon on 42nd Street. This was the first time I was ever thankful for my job as a waitress because, though serving a cup of coffee to a gaggle of whiney women is a rather miserable existence, I can only imagine being a cup of coffee is considerably worse. It reminded me of the time I passed the bunch of giant bananas doing a choreographed dance to promote a smoothie shop in Times Square. I was very thankful on that day that no matter how low I stooped in my quest for stardom, I had never become a dancing fruit.

Ah, the path of the Broadway dreamer...always poor, usually hungry, and often humiliating, it is little wonder that "actor" and "alcoholic" are so often confused. Someone should tell these foam-form food products that there is life after theater...and it's in real clothes.