I heard about Harlem Song from Shelia Davis while I was doing a workshop for Slam! a new play/musical showcasing at The New African Theater at The Duke building  in Times Square.  She and I did Marcy X together last year, which was a hoot and a
holler.  There must have been eight of us black girls in this one particular scene and it was nothing but a lot of waiting around and eating.  We basically sat around in a trailer for a week and a half in a constant state of readiness, perfectly coiffed and made up and costumed and everything, noshing on gourmet food and snacks from the craft services table, laughing and chatting about God knows what all, and just carrying on.  I had two lines and I made so much money, I literally laughed, from the time I saw my check until it hit my bank account. As it turns out, it was a mere pittance compared to what other actors in film and on tv generally make.  No wonder they don't do theater.

Shelia did what lots of black girls in the business do for each other, if they're really down:  she took me aside and told me about Harlem Song and the part in it that she thought was right for me, so I'd be sure that I would be submitted for it. I didn't know anything about it.  I couldn't see past my own nose because I was knee deep in restaurantlandia. Although the money and the management was okay in my present work situation, I was still struggling to keep my head above water.

When I checked with my managers, they told me that I had already been submitted and they were awaiting a response.  And then, pow. Just like that, a day and a time materialized out of nowhere.  That lucky day found me so wound up and unnerved that I sat in the lobby of The Public Theater and had lunch two hours before my audition time because I was terrified of being late and making a bad first impression.  My day was set:  a brisk early morning workout to wake up, some vocalizing, then the audition. Afterwards I'd go work a private party at the restaurant for the better part of the night and make a fistful of dollars.  I looked great, I had my sheet music.  I even brought an extra headshot, just in case. I sat there, leafing through a magazine, smiling at passersby, blissfully pleased with myself.  Oh, yes.  I was ready, I was on time and I was on point.

Eventually, I wandered back and forth to LuEsther Hall upstairs where the auditions were actually taking place.   The dance call was going on for longer than they'd anticipated.  I watched for a few minutes before returning to my perch in the lobby.  Relax, there's plenty of time, I reasoned.  So I did.

I couldn't have been more wrong...