Anyone who doesn't think it's hard being an actor, just take a look at the kind of discrimination we face on a daily basis: "No Actor Parking in Lot." Though we be actors, do we not get tired of walking like regular people? Does not our make-up run in the blaring heat that is a March 31 noon sun? Just because we're not going to purchase a pita or get a Bally's gym membership (cause we're too poor and downtrodden), can we not park our cars in one of the plentiful spaces available in a parking lot?
No. We must fight one another like scavengers for street parking, or drop our last coins in high-priced meters, and then risk our lives crossing busy streets, praying we aren't run over before we get the privilege to compete for a role on the Oxygen Network. In the two minutes we get to dazzle a casting director, we squeeze in as much hip, funny "The View-ness" as we possibly can. And if we're lucky, we'll be as funny as our forehead is shiny.
And then we'll be off again, to another casting studio, where we'll, again, have to park blocks away. We also might have to change our outfits in our car, which will probably be parked across the street from a roach coach so day laborers can watch us squeeze into too-tight jeans as they wait to order a corn dog or grilled cheese sandwich.
What's my point? Only that we actors suffer great indignities in this place known for broken dreams.