I was recently sharing the story about my CTJ meeting with a boss I had back in 1989. I was bartending my way through college and making great money (it’s fascinating what a hot little bod, huge smile, and friendly wit will yield, when you’re an eager kid, slinging drinks). And I was late to nearly every shift.
When my boss finally sat me down and asked (perhaps rhetorically), “Do you know why it is that you are chronically late to your shifts here?” I charmingly retorted, “I’m certain it’s a blatant but passive-aggressive display of lack of respect for your authority in general.” *blink* *blink* *blink* (Oh, we’re so cheeky when we’re young AND the top-earner on the schedule.)
Yeah. I was that girl. But after this particular meeting, I stopped being so much of a smartass and I stopped being late. Here’s why: Being late was totally, 100% within my control. And the truth was that I didn’t CARE enough about the job to be on time. I knew I’d earn more tips than anyone when I got there, I knew my regulars were eager to talk sports (or music or politics or whatever) with me, and I knew this wasn’t my dream job. It was just a way to pay for college and sock away the down payment for the car I still drive to this day.
But it was still a job, and I should’ve respected it. Because by being late, I was saying, “I’m more important than what’s happening here.” Or, “Whatever is happening in my life takes priority over the commitment that I have made to be at a certain place at a certain time.” Or, “I cannot be bothered to concern myself with what you choose to expect when I agree to show up; if you’re counting on me, that’s your mistake.”
Now, of course, there are emergencies. Life happens. Once-every-now-and-then tardiness is totally understandable. I’m talking about chronic lateness. I’m talking about being so consumed with anything BUT the present moment that you begin to miss your life.
I know actors who spend so much time — even while on set — obsessed with how to get on the NEXT set that they neglect to appreciate the delightful experience that being on set truly is. They’re not living in the moment. They’re shorting themselves on the full richness (or the rich fullness) of what LIFE is about. They’re certainly not focusing on what matters.
When actors are late to auditions (and especially when they are late without communication about the snag in timing), I have to wonder whether they have a tardiness problem that could effect whether they’d be reliable when showing up to set (should I cast them) *or* if they’re like I was, as a young bartender: simply in an occupation that was never meant to be their life’s work.
Wow. If buyers are questioning whether you’re engaged in your life’s work when it’s time for you to walk in, do good work, and book the room, what do you think that does to how buyers assess your talent? Think we’re even focused on that? Especially if there are countless others who were on time (or early), prepared, and present — in the moment — fully invested in how their participation helps shape the stories we’re here to tell… how does that track when compared to the latecomer, the person who is always checking the phone for something more important, or the one who’s hustling so hard for the next thing that there’s just no enjoyment of the NOW thing?
Respect not only those along the path with you as a creative storyteller, but also respect yourself and what you say you want out of this business, your pursuit, life itself. Go early. Be present. Take a book. People-watch. Study what’s around you in your every bit of NOW. Live in the moment. It’s a delicious one, never to be repeated!
Bonnie Gillespie is living her dreams by helping others figure out how to live theirs. Wanna work with Bon? Start here. Thanks!
Originally published by Actors Access at http://more.showfax.com/columns/avoice/archives/001892.html. Please support the many wonderful resources provided by the Breakdown Services family. This posting is the author’s personal archive.