Three Cookies and a Diet Coke

The line of hopeful wannabe models stretches out the door and around the corner. They are tall and short, black and white, blonde and brunette, thin and family sized. It's going to be another three cookies and a Diet Coke for lunch kind of day.

They have been clearly and specifically told to bring a current photo. Many don't.

They have been clearly and specifically told not to bring their entire family of 12. Many do.

They have clearly and specifically been told what to wear. They ignore the instructions.

They have been clearly and specifically told we will not see children under 6 The 3 year old twins and their parents leave in a huff.

They have clearly and specifically been told about being punctual. I turn away the three who stroll and slouch in a half hour after we start. They decide to argue and it almost turns heated but when I point out that if they can't be on time for an audition, how could I expect them to be on a time for a job, I prevail and they wander away like a herd of lost sheep.

With a little help from Michael, I manage to get them all signed in, seated, and more or less paying attention. He teaches them the basics of posture and a runway walk, then they all read a tv commercial, even the ones who obviously don't consider literacy a benefit and after a quickie question and answer session, we're done.

One or two have the height, one or two have the drive, one or two have the personality, one or two even have the resources but when it's all said and done, we hope for a shining star but settle for a festival of ordinary. Broadway and Hollywood will have to wait for the next crop of starry eyed dreamers.

In the meantime, maybe I can get a decent lunch.