“We’re going to send you to our hair stylist and he’ll do it all.”
“Okay.”
“And then we’ll do a spec photoshoot and we’ll go from there.”
“Okay.”
So I went along with it. I showed up to the salon and they dyed my hair black, cut it just below my ears and gave me blunt bangs. It wasn’t bad! It was a drastic change, but I like to think I pulled it off. We did the photos and I worked all the angles that I saw my Israeli model friend working in her selfies.
Photogenics took a look at the photos . . . and then they said no.
So. At the end of the day there was no modeling agency that wanted me. But saying instead, “Oh I’m a comedienne; I would NEVER model. How could anyone do a job where they’re judged solely on their physical appearance?” sounds a lot cooler than the truth.
A week later Rudolf came back from shooting his movie in Germany and was stunned when he saw me.
“Your hair! What did you do?”
“Well . . . this modeling agency cut it off.”
“Oh great! So you signed with them.”
“No.”
Rudolf stared at me and sighed. “Jesus Christ, Laura, I leave you for two weeks and this is what you do.”
That was the last time I ever even attempted modeling. Years later I would go on to play models all the time on TV and in movies. One of my favorite characters that I do now is a dumb model. Because I went on all those auditions and shoots, I know all the ridiculous intricacies of the career and industry. Maybe all those failed attempts were like research for my future acting, right? Whatever helps me sleep at night!
One day Rudolf sat me down and asked me what I wanted out of life. What I really, really wanted.
“I want to be an actress.”
“Well, where is your agent? What are you doing to achieve that?”
I didn’t have an answer. So he pushed me to find one. He helped me get my first commercial agent.
Rudolf was also an actor. A great one. He had this strong jawline and weathered but stern look, but because of his accent he was always cast as the villain. Always. He made a career out of playing terrorists and murderers and coldhearted people who were the complete opposite of who he was.
After getting my first commercial agent, I booked the very first commercial audition I went out for. It was a Spanish cell phone commercial. I couldn’t understand a word that was said, but my job was to dance around with a cell phone in my hand. So I fucking nailed that shit.
I actually never saw it, but one of my friends was studying abroad in Spain and called me to tell me she had seen me on TV. Pretty cool.
I mean, I got lucky booking the first audition I ever went on. In an instant, I was making money and became SAG eligible. My first thought was WOW! THIS IS EASY. I would come to realize that making it as an actor was far from easy. But having my foot in the door felt amazing.
Rudolf was this huge positive influence in my life. With his help, I had stopped using hard drugs, stopped partying like I used to, and started to get healthy.
There was really only one bad thing about dating Rudolf. It was Comet’s mother.
Rudolf had adopted Comet with his ex-girlfriend as a last-ditch effort to save their relationship, I’m sure. It didn’t work, but it did successfully keep her in the picture. After Rudolf and I had moved in together, he told me, “Laura. Today at ten a.m., my ex-girlfriend will be coming over to pick up Comet. She would like to meet you if you are comfortable with that.”
This was so weird. I didn’t want to meet his ex-girlfriend. I didn’t get why I had to. “You do not have to if you do not want to,” he repeated. But she wanted to meet me?
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Sugar.”
Stop it. Rudolf and Sugar? Were they gonna go save Christmas?
I said yes, partly because I didn’t know how to say no to things and partly because I wanted to see if she was prettier than me. I sat on the couch nervously, holding Comet like a hostage.
At ten a.m. she walked in. She was tall, but not as tall as me, with long brown hair and crazy eyes. Her eyes looked like she was trying to move things with her mind at all times.
She walked straight past me.
I hung on to Comet like I was an insecure adoptive mother, prepping him to meet his birth mother. “I raised you! I cared for you when she didn’t want you!”
I told myself, Laura, calm down, this is your house. You live here now. She wanted to meet you. She’s going to be nice.
“Rudolf, dear, make me some tea.”
She stalked back into the living room and sat directly across from me, still frozen on the couch. She targeted her crazy eyes at my soul.
“So, Laura. Will I ever get to see what Rudolf sees in you?”
What? I didn’t know how to respond to that. I didn’t know how to do this! I composed myself and willed myself to answer the question. Show her who’s boss, Laura.
“Probably not.”
Damn it! Not a great answer. She looked smug as she decided I was an idiot.
Rudolf walked in with the tea. I gave him a look that said spill that fucking tea on her. Then he handed her the tea. Come on, Rudolf. Whose team are you on?
She sipped some tea, pinky out, ready to jab someone in the eye with all that class.
“It’s hot,” she complained.
“It’s tea.”
I laughed. Because I laugh when I’m uncomfortable out of my mind. She glared at me, as if I had just laughed at her funeral and she was deciding the best way to haunt me for the rest of my life.
I clarified, “Tea is supposed to be hot.”
She put her cup down.
“Laura, are you accusing me of not knowing what tea is?”
The crazy eyes looked like they were trying to telepathically slam my body against a wall. “Do you THINK I don’t know what TEA is?” she repeated.
“I . . .” I looked at Rudolf. He was sweating, speechless, not expecting this to have gone so badly. Poor Rudolf expected the best from both of us. But really, WHO WOULD HAVE EXPECTED that a current girlfriend meeting an ex-girlfriend could have been tense? *millions of hands raise*
“Laura knows you know what tea is, Sugar! It’s dried leaves steeped in—” Rudolf stammered.
“I have to go.” I stood up. I ran like I always do. I didn’t know how to talk to her. I knew how to escape. I went straight to my sister’s house. Oh God, Rudolf and Sugar were going to exchange Comet every two weeks.
Two weeks later I was out at a café with my sister. Rudolf called to say that Sugar was coming over to get Comet again, and that I should stay out for thirty more minutes if I didn’t want to run into her. I said okay, thanks for letting me know, and hung up the phone.
My sister stared at me. “Let’s go.”
“Why the hell would we ever do that?”
“I want to meet the bitch who made my sister cry.” And she was off walking toward my apartment. I followed her.
We waited on the porch steps, and my anxiety was increasing. I didn’t want this. Nope nope nope. Colleen, on the other hand, was psyching herself up like a boxer before a prizefight.
“Can we go, please?”
But it was too late. Sugar stalked up the walkway, glaring at me with the anger of a thousand rich white ladies demanding to speak to the manager.