To pee, or not to pee...

My audition buddy Bruce asked if I would sign him up for a chorus call on Friday. I was planning on going to an Equity Principal Audition (EPA) that morning and then afterwards going to Actor’s Equity to sign myself up, so I said sure.

Friday at 6am I headed out to the EPA. I got in line and waited. It was day three of this particular audition so there weren’t many people there, which isn’t always the case. At 9am I was able to pick the time slot I wanted. Afterwards I went over to the Equity building at 165 West 46^th Street, 2^nd floor.

Chorus Call signup sheets are posted at 9:30am one week before the audition. I arrived at 9:15am. I had a few minutes so I decide that it was time for my “I got up at the crack of dawn for an audition” breakfast treat. I went downstairs to McDonalds, got my favorite and came back.

Auditions at the Equity building were now in full swing. Non-Equity (non-union) actors are not allowed into the Equity (union) lounge. It’s a rule. Non-Equity actors, who are hoping to audition, sit outside the lounge on benches. Since eating or drinking anything besides water in the Equity lounge is another rule, I joined the non-union actors on the benches in the hallway.

As I ate I overheard two very young girls:

Girl 1: I just better be seen at this audition.

Me: (in my head) Oh my god. This sausage biscuit is so good!

Girl 2: I know. I am so close to getting my Equity card. I just need a few more points.

Me: (in my head) Yes! There are benefits to waking up before the sun gets up!

Girl 1: I just need my Equity card and then I am good to go.

            Me: (in my head) It’s like Manna from heaven!

Girl 2: I know. I have to have my Equity card by the end of the summer.

            Me: (in my head) Wow. They just don't know.

Back when I was non-equity, the place the three of us were sitting was called the “Bitter Bench”. The seats got that name because anyone sitting there eventually became bitter. We became bitter that we weren’t Equity. We became bitter we had to get up so early. We became bitter we had to wait in line to maybe been seen at an audition. We became bitter when we weren’t seen and we became were bitter when we were seen. After all how can they expect us to be in top form after sitting around doing nothing for hours on end?

What made us the most bitter was that we weren’t allowed to go in the Equity lounge, not even to use the restroom.

We were convinced becoming Equity would make all of that better. We wouldn’t have to get up in the dark of night to go stand in a line. We wouldn’t have to wait around for hours to audition. We could get the better opportunities, the better jobs, and the better pay (remember, as non-Equity I made $65 a week from my first “away from home paying performance job”).

Everyone thought the same. Even in school we were told we had to be Equity before we went to New York or we wouldn’t get work.

At my university there was an older guy in my class, named John Balance, a tall, very good looking, very manly-man with a pleasant baritone singing voice. He was one of the lucky incoming freshmen who landed the romantic lead in the university’s spring musical. We all called him John “Equity” Balance (before it was chic to do so) because all he could talk about was becoming Equity. “When I am Equity…” was his favorite way of starting or joining a conversation…any conversation. To him it was the be all and end all. The Equity Card was the Holy Grail of performing. After getting it, one could command the sun, moon and stars.

Even though we all secretly believed the very same thing, we spent many hours laughing about him. We were kids. Soon even non-theatre majors made fun of him. My friend Sally, a Travel Tourism and Trade major, all these years later remembers him and can do a spot on impression. It still makes me laugh today. (More on Sally and outside friends another time)

After graduating I had chances to get my Equity card but turned them down. Don’t get me wrong. I am a union man through and through. But somewhere along the line while growing up, I wised up. Before I finally took my card I’d come to some realizations.

The main difference between a union (Equity) actor and a non-union (non-Equity) actor is a piece of paper, that initial contract that allows you to pay the initiation fee to get your Equity (union) card. It doesn’t make you more talented, more beautiful or a better person. It’s a piece of paper.

Equity has a lounge space in midtown, where some auditions are held. A space where audition notices are posted, free tickets to shows are given (if they’re available), a place to hang out (as the old timers do) and it’s somewhere to use a restroom in midtown between the hours of 9 and 5:30.

Equity gives you protections against unscrupulous producers and people who take advantage of performers. That’s why Equity was formed many years ago.

Equity offers you the opportunity for health insurance, should you meet the criteria of minimum weeks worked in a specific period. Given that only about 2% of union actors are making a living through performing, this is more difficult than it sounds.

Equity offers a pension based on what you’ve earned as a member, should you become “vested” with Equity.

Equity offers workman’s compensation if you’re injured, bonding to make sure you get paid and most importantly collective bargaining, where they look out for your best interests when negotiating the terms of new contracts.

Equity is wonderful. Belonging to such an organization gives you a sense of pride, accomplishment and community.

Having your Equity card does not mean you get to sleep late.

I was chatting with the director of the show I’m currently doing, who is an actor and contemporary of mine. We realized that at the height of audition season, an Equity actor sometimes has to get in line at 4am in order to insure a time slot at an EPA. A few times we did just that and still weren’t seen.

My friend Howie did the 4am thing a few days ago. He was third in line.

Having your card does not mean once you’ve gotten up at 4am and have an EPA audition time that this spot is guaranteed no matter what. Miss your check in and/or name being announced by even seconds and you will be replaced by another Equity member who didn’t get a time and is on an alternate list; someone who has been waiting around for hours with the hopes of being seen. (Sound familiar?) And you will miss your name being called, more than once and through no fault of your own. I can guarantee it with three little letters: MTA.

Having your card does not mean you are the consummate professional, or a pinnacle of talent and decorum. It means someone needed “you” in a show.

Your card doesn’t give you all the answers. It means you worked in an Equity house or several houses. It means you’ve worked with a signed Equity contract and both you and the place you performed at abided by Equity rules…in theory.

Having your card doesn’t mean that you will ever work again. In fact it’s a lot harder to get Equity job number two than it is to get Equity job number one. John “Equity” Balance was one of the first of my class to get his Equity card. He even got Equity show number two quite quickly. But for whatever reason he couldn’t get another performing job after that.

Today John owns a construction company in his home town. In his spare time he does community theatre (Don’t make that face!). Performing is what John loves to do, but to do it he had to give up his Holy Grail, his Equity card. Once Equity (union) you’re not allowed to perform without an Equity (union) contract.

I am an Equity Actor. I realize either way, not much is guaranteed and every situation is different. I made my choice before turning Equity to work at Equity houses, learning the ropes, “paying my dues” and adding enough to my resume so that I could take off the university shows and the community theatre shows and “appear” professional. I made my choice by being informed.

The people who choose to work non-equity (and I have a lot of friends who work non-stop as non-union) also realize that either way not much is guaranteed. They also make their choice by being informed, and by not putting the Equity Card on a pedestal thinking it can solve world hunger. It’s a piece of paper.

That Friday after I finished eating my breakfast I left the “Bitter Bench” and went into the Equity lounge. I used the restroom and then got in another line to put mine and Bruce’s names on a list for the audition that was a week away. As I was waiting, sleep deprived and sated from my sausage biscuit, I had a brief moment of clarity.

Through all of this Equity versus Non-Equity, professional/non-professional debate, there is one guarantee. With your Equity card, you’re guaranteed “the privilege to pee”.