I guess 'taking one for the team' and lying in that milk DID bring something positive after all.
Then I asked, "Will I be in liquid or hanging upside down from something?" The CD laughed and said I wouldn't be and that I would play a pedestrian since I already did the milk one.
Happily I said yes, and thus I found myself at the Brooklyn Armory on a glorious sunny day, going to the gym accessed by a side entrance and changing into gym clothes I brought with me for the gig. I tied my sneakers, and got myself inspired by observing the PA's set the multiple camera angles up while separating our group into smaller groups and giving us our assignments. I would be a runner, part of the last group joining the rest of the runners already on the track running/chasing some pro runners who are getting surprised that all these mysterious people in orange socks and headbands are joining them.
After waiting for some time as the crew set up and discussed logistics, it was time for us to head down to the track and get assigned to certain groups. For the runners, we had groups A, B and C and I was in group C. We were only instructed to go HALF of the track, but running it several times quickly covered the amount of what would have really been at least twice or three times around the whole track. We did many takes, each run going a little farther, a bit longer. I am not a runner and not graceful at it by any means, but I was a good sport and gave it my best. It wasn't so bad as long as there was a quick break inbetween each take. Then we had to be careful on how we suddenly "died" and fell where we stopped in mid-run, careful not to hurt anybody or trip up anyone behind us in the process of 'dying'. Before long, we were snacking on fruit and bread and drinking water. We got most of the filming in before breaking for lunch which involved sandwich wraps, potato/tuna/macaroni salads, chips, cookies, soda, juice, coffee and tea.
Eventually, it was time for another guy to pick up the megaphone and make the speech about how second hand smoke was somehow better or just as good as running according to a quote from some anonymous cigarette executive. And he ran with us, he was a bit portly, and did his best to say his lines without being totally winded but it was tough. He would miss a part or mess up his speech or his megaphone would suddenly go silent. Eventually we made it through and they had us just lie silently in place, 'dead' on the track, until he got it right because it was useless running over and over again by this point.
We did one more segment where we were gathered around the two spokesguys, the portly guy and the guy who had the megaphone on the prior milk and restaurant shoots, and they trash talked each other as we tried hard not to laugh and roar on cue to show our 'support' and enthusiasm. As they took some time to set up the scene, I got buzzed for a potential gig I had already confirmed on -- the casting person for that gig wanted me to confirm...again. So I tried to make a quick call. The casting person asked simple questions that had already been answered, and I advised I was on set. In anticipation of anyone calling for a potential gig, I had left my availability with my cousin in case anyone called at my home. My cousin texted me that the casting assistant wanted to hear the confirmation from me. Fine. Successful in relaying my confirmation, I was told to call another number in a couple of days to then re-re-confirm! Holding in my surprise, I thanked them for calling, and we said goodbye and hung up. The production crew was finally ready to shoot the trashtalking scene. Some of the background was oblivious to the crew filming and were chatting and cracking jokes. One of the PA's lost it and basically told them to "shut up". Then after several more takes, it was finally a wrap. Luckily I had my bag with me hidden behind some seats nearby and I was one of the first females in line to get signed out. I briskly walked to the train station, my orange socks still on, when a curious passersby asked what was going on inside the Armory. I gave a quick explanation that it was for a commercial for an anti-smoking campaign. They were satisfied with the answer and I was free to navigate my way back to the train station where people did doubletakes on my orange socks. What? Has one never seen orange before? Maybe the designers need to bring it back as a new color trend in clothing!
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Little did I know what the next assignment would be, the final commercial so to speak. The one where I would be a pedestrian. I found myself wandering lower Manhattan, in the South Street Seaport area, to find the holding area for what would be the final day. As I walked in, I saw some men getting body paint work done -- they had tights on and looked a bit like wrestlers. I wondered what was going on. I would soon find out.
We gathered in a holding area that had no heat, and we waited while they set up the breakfast table of muffins, bagels and light snacks. After that, we got an announcement as to what would be going down. They had groups of jumpers, of pedestrians, and those who ....would be wrestling in applesauce. Yes, applesauce.
The crew got one of those rubber jumper gym type things and got air into it, then got these huge drums of actual applesauce (they were yellow drums that read 'organic' applesauce, whew, whatta relief it's organic!) and poured them in slowly, with the crew recording our faces for surprise, curiosity, and the participants about to get into the applesauce were yelling, cheering and clapping.
We broke for lunch. We waited for the crew to get fed and they came in fits and stops. It took a while before we finally were able to get to the food.
The production crew tried to hold off on the moment of truth -- when the ten to fifteen individuals were to get into the rubber playpen and 'wrestle' or 'fight' in the applesauce, outside, in the cold. It quickly became apparent that my swim in the milk would be nothing compared to being outside covered with applesauce with a bitter sharp wind coming nearby while on the pier of the South Street Seaport while the spokes guys with their megaphones were forgetting their lines as they shivered. Everyone was turning blue or purple. The wrestlers came in for a bit, and one bald one that looked like Mr. Clean was shivering and turning purple as he hoisted one of the announcer guys and spun him carefully in the muck as people wrestled or flung some applesauce out that hit us pedestrians -- and I had my just dry cleaned coat on! I tried to dodge it as much as I could while the director yelled for us to get closer to the mess that was happening. No pedestrian in their right mind would get CLOSER to something obviously looking messy wet on a windy cold day. The applesauce started to ooze out of the inflated contraption and the PA's got big scoopers and shovels to scrape it off the ground and poured it right back into the goop as people wrestled. So it was a mix of dirty city sidewalk mixed with the applesauce and people were getting it in their faces, hair and clothes, and gosh I hope they didn't taste it.
More takes were done, despite having at least three PA's running around with hand-held cameras for multiple angles done at once as well as the main camera focusing in on the action. We saw the applesauce wrestlers shivering and the wrestler finally said "No more," and walked off the set. The director was heard to say that if he heard one more person asking if this was a wrap the PA's were instructed to release that person on the spot and without pay.
The portly spokesguy came out again to do a couple of sound bites and get our audience to make some noise to tape. After another fifteen or twenty minutes, it was over, and we all bolted for holding.
We had been advised at some point prior to coming to this last gig that some people who worked the prior candy and milk gig would be able to pick up their check from that gig as long as they provided the production company a xerox copy of their official I.D. for them to keep. Otherwise, we would have to wait to go and pick it up at a designated time and date at their offices. I was fine with picking it up from their offices, and got signed out and marched myself back to the train station -- but not before stopping off at McD's for a small fries as a small celebratory "finally!" for myself.
I got home, cleaned up the spots of applesauce off my coat, and took a quick shower, went to bed early, and packed my bag to get ready for the next acting gig.
