Not Hot Stuff

A few day ago, I auditioned for a restaurant chain with a well-known, catchy jingle that may make a resurgence.  The audition required singing and I knew this was the reason I was called.  I was psyched to have a chance to sing for a commercial audition and wanted to do my best.  I made a mental choice to not sing too well because past practice of the jingle illustrated thusly.  Furthermore, I know of very few jingles sung in a classical style.

In the days prior to the audition, I learned and practiced the ditty, trying to stay true to the original while providing a bit of personal styling.  I practiced in the shower.  I hummed while on the bus. I muttered the lyrics under my breath while in the grocery store.  I tapped out the syncopated rhythms while riding the T.  Little did I know I would not be auditioning alone.

My audition partner turned out to be a lovely person that I've had the good fortune to work with before.  Polite, witty, sharp-looking, courteous, but cannot stay in a key. I had forgotten how challenging it can be to try sing with a less-skilled singer.  Mid-audition, a small voice in my mind recalled that phrase, "Hold your own!", and I finally appreciated its sentiment.  I made a conscious decision to ignore the other talent in the room (read: my audition partner) and stick to my key of choice.  I think it made the entire audition terrible.  Seriously.  I could hear the terribleness happening as the audition progressed.  I'm afraid my face may have showcased my awareness of the magnitude of the terribleness, but I sincerely tried to remain focused on the scene at hand, hoping it would mask my insight.  Part of me hoped the situation was humorous enough to help us both get the gig.  However, I know I didn't get it--it shot last week.

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