Robert Bruce | Knife Gun Pen

I was finishing a bowl of Ramen
making some effort to
consider how the rent
might be paid
when the call came in at
7:03 pm on a Thursday

The call had the potential to be
a real life-changer
It came from the
production office of
one of the most popular
action television shows
of the early nineties

“We want you in the Valley
tomorrow morning. 4:00 am,
be prepared to move,” she said.

“I’ll be there,” I said.

Next morning, I drove the two hours
and made it into the lot of a
large steel building
in the middle of nowhere
on empty

Apart from the Beemers and Mercs
parked out front
It looked more like a Costco
than a Hollywood studio

If I hit this one
out of the park
I’d be rich
and driving one of those
German machines
through the suicide bends
of Mulholland Blvd.
at 80 mph
by next weekend

I was twenty-three years old
and
nothing could stop me

My optimistic theories
on the nature of living had not yet
taken a good beating

I pushed through the
front door of Costco
and into the buzz and warm stench
of three hundred and twenty other bodies
all stretching, running in place
prepared to move

Essentially
all vying for my Mercedes

Only one of us was going to walk out
of that place with the role

For the other
three hundred nineteen
it was back to Ramen
and the
never-ending
lottery
that
we
know
as
Hollywood

It was an action show
so the part was largely physical
bad Kung Fu moves
and macho posing

Over half the group was cut
in the first three hours
we were asked to pair up
and told to “fight”
no other direction

I had never taken a
martial arts class
but I’d done a few for
stage combat and movement

Regarding auditions
one of my instructors
had always said
“It doesn’t matter
if you’re the best in the room,
just be the BIGGEST.”

So I decided to be BIG
I think I saw
my fighting partner
glance at my wrist
looking for a
hospital bracelet

I swung at him
with primitive rage
I performed a perfect
roundhouse kick
two feet over his head
I hadn’t been able to
touch my toes
before that moment

The hours went on
more dreams were dashed
more souls left Costco
and I was still there

The producers had seen me
they decided to keep me
and one other person

It was 5 pm

They told us to
take a break
and come back
for the final round

When we walked back in
the weight of the moment
almost crushed me
I was close
so close to freedom
no more rent worries
no more rotting teeth
no more cheap dates
no more old cars
no more hustle

When we started again
the two of us were on a mat
with an Assistant Director
calling out lines
which we “acted out” as we fought

As it went along
I sensed that something was wrong
that the other guy
was performing better
was about to drive away with my Merc

So I reached deep inside
and went to a place
usually reserved for
the master

As he swung his left
I dropped
turned in place
and somehow
executed a perfect
double back flip
over his head
landing on
the other side
of him
on my index finger

He turned
and from my finger-stand
I kicked him across the room
and sprung perfectly
from the finger
back to my feet

No cables
no special effects

It was the years of
Ramen
strengthening me
in my moment of need

I shouldn’t have to
tell you
that they
gave me the role

I thought I had bagged
the role of a lifetime
it was going to solve all my needs
justify all my work and poverty
show up all of those who didn’t believe

But when it was all said and done
it only lasted two episodes

Two episodes of playing
a good guy saving the world

Two episodes wearing
a blue plastic helmet and body armor

Two episodes and
no Mercedes

Two episodes of
The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers

And
now
you
have
a
better
idea
of
why
I
write
poems