Try Later

By Patricia Wroan

The 1960’s were a chaotic time in American history. Many uprisings and changes were beginning to take place resulting in riots, marches, and assignations.
This was the background in American society at that time and it was portrayed in the movies and television shows and was reflected in the lives of the stars and the background players behind them with their own personal dramas.
What goes on behind the stars can be just as interesting and intriguing as the stars and shows themselves. Try Later takes the reader on a journey with six young women who work as a background player meet each other on sets and become faithful and close friends for life.
Janicelle Jensen, Ruth Silverman, Velvet Roseanna, Candy Carpenter, and Lorrain Carver all but one are aspiring to be actresses who hope that they might get their big break while working as background players.
Janicelle Jensen, a socialite, and debutante from Boston decides to pursue a long-ago dream of being a singer after her husband wants to move west only to find out how overwhelmed and exhausted she feels when she sees how demanding and stressful it can be to be a big star.
Ruth Silverman finds it impossible to give up on her dream which she has been pursuing for twelve long years continues the struggle in spite of the loneliness and pain that it causes her family, only to lead to a fatal ending.
Velvet Roseanna, a raving brunette who could have anything or anyone she wants but doesn’t want any of it, and through her own journey comes to realize what she had really wanted all along.
Candy Carpenter, discouraged and desperate after getting nowhere for years eventually decides that she will do anything and everything to become a big star, only to experience a brutal Me Too awakening.
Lorraine Caver a green-eyed flamming redhead with a sordid past wants to better herself in life and decides to give acting a try only to find that it takes far too much effort, talent, and hard work for her lazy nature and decides to go an easier route by finding a sugar daddy.
Angela Whitney, whose mother was a well-acclaimed supermodel in New York doesn’t want to follow in her mother’s footsteps, decides that she would prefer an acting career, but finds herself conflicted with her primary desire to be a wife and mother and have a close family that she never had.
As time flies by without any signs of obtaining their goals, each one comes to the realization that choices and changes have to be made.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781546278733

Patricia Wroan

Pat Wroan worked as a background player (extra) and model in the 1960’s until she retired from it for 18 years to raise her three children. She returned back to it during the 1990’s for six more years. She is presently working part time for a marketing company who premieres movies before they are released to the public. She resides in Los Angeles, Ca. and loves spending time with her eight grandchildren.

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© 2019 Patricia Wroan. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/05/2020

ISBN: 978-1-5462-7872-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-0073-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-7873-3 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Central Casting

Chapter 2 Bernie

Chapter 3 Janicelle

Chapter 4 Ruth

Chapter 5 First Day on Set

Chapter 6 Chasens

Chapter 7 Mama Maria

Chapter 8 The Silent Bit

Chapter 9 Velvet

Chapter 10 Abortion

Chapter 11 Confrontation

Chapter 12 Something Ominbus

Chapter 13 The Temper Tantrum

Chapter 14 Contenplating

Chapter 15 No Work

Chapter 16 The Debutante

Chapter 17 Suicide

Chapter 18 Discovery

Chapter 19 The Funeral

Chapter 20 A Velvet Rose

Chapter 21 Candy

Chapter 22 A Bird’s Eye View

Chapter 23 The Method

Chapter 24 A Reality Check

Chapter 25 Work on a Western

Chapter 26 A Classy Cowboy

Chapter 27 Try Again

Chapter 28 Mother, Apple pie and America

Chapter 29 Try Later

Chapter 30 A Cattle Call

Chapter 31 The Closet Queen

Chapter 32 A Polictical Point of View

Chapter 33 The Pasadena Playhouse

Chapter 34 Candy’s Cocktail Party

Chapter 35 Velvet, Victim of Love

Chapter 36 SEG

Chapter 37 The Guild Meeting

Chapter 38 The Break Up

Chapter 39 On the Make

Chapter 40 An Awakening

Chapter 41 Assacination

Chapter 42 Another Dumb Hollywood Blonde

Chapter 43 The Morgue

Chapter 44 A Brutal Beating

Chapter 45 Faithful Friends

Chapter 46 The Rescue

Chapter 47 The Delight of a Dog

Chapter 48 Jan’s Plan

Chapter 49 The Joy of Jed

Chapter 50 Lesbians, Drag Queens, and Dissilousment

Chapter 51 Italiana

Chapter 52 The King

Chapter 53 Viva Las Vegas

Chapter 54 An Old Flame

Chapter 55 An Indiscrestion

Chapter 56 You Go to my Head

Chapter 57 Chaos

Chapter 58 Angela’s Engagement

Chapter 59 A Proposal

Chapter 60 Back to Boston

Chapter 61 A Message from Mother

Chapter 62 A Rendezvous

Chapter 63 The Costa Nostra

Chapter 64 Birdland

Chapter 65 Parie

Chapter 66 Choices

Chapter 67 A Gentle Good Bye

Chapter 68 Moveing On

Chapter 69 Lorraine Leaves

Chapter 70 A Fat Rich Cat

Chapter 71 A Place in Politics

Chapter 72 Kids or Career

Chapter 73 A Lovely Life

Synopsis

I dedicate this book to my husband Lyle Wroan.

To our sons and daughter, Doug, David and Dawn.

To our Grandkids, Brooke, Garrett, Cambria,

Grant, Graham, Dylan, Zachary, and Jake.

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CHAPTER 1

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Central Casting

Janicelle Jensen maneuvered her car into the only space available on the busy 8000 block of Beverly Blvd. Pleased with herself for having parked the car successfully into such a tight squeeze she locked the door, put a quarters worth of nickels into the parking meter and hurried down the street to the intersection.

Waiting for the light to turn green, she adjusted her huge black homed-rimmed sunglasses, and once again glanced at the rather tall massive looking building across the street. She checked the address for what was, in her nervous state of mind, at least the fourth time — 8480. Yes it was the right one, the address Bernie had given her. The building was impressive sitting back from the street with a spacious parking lot in front for VIP’s only. Its white stucco sparkled and glistened like tiny diamonds in the brilliant sunlight. It certainly looked better than most of the offices she’d been to for the last several months. The light changed to green and along with the other pedestrians she hurried across the street.

Reaching the building, she opened the swinging glass door and stepped into a large lobby which contained some rather stiff looking vinyl couches and chairs with only a few people meandering in and out. Spotting the directory on the wall, she walked over and scanned it carefully for the number of Central Casting’s Offices. Finding it easily, she then glanced down at her watch and saw that she was nearly thirty minutes early. She was relieved, it would give her a chance to relax and compose herself before the dreaded interview. She walked over and sat down on the couch facing the hall and elevator where she could observe the people coming and going.

It felt good to sit down after having dashed around all morning and she could use the extra time to think things out. She hoped and prayed that she wasn’t making a mistake, it was so hard to know in this crazy business. Who could be sure what would work? But then Bernie had seemed so sure - so positive that this was what she should do. But then again, she barely knew Bernie — in fact he had been a perfect stranger that day he approached her, introducing himself in his easy carefree way. She smiled slightly, letting her mind drift back a moment to that hot grueling afternoon which she had spent literally beating the pavement. She had been exhausted not only from the heat, but from the futility of the situation. Making the rounds of agents and casting directors was something she deplored, and nothing had ever resulted from the seemingly endless treks. There had to be another way! She had decided to stop and cool off with a glass of ice tea while she contemplated a new plan. Since she was in the 900 block of Sunset Blvd. the closest place was Schwab’s, the famous drugstore which catered primarily to aspiring actors and actresses.

She had only been there a moment before Bernie approached her table. He was short in statue and overweight. He was a complete stranger and he was also the first person to offer her any help. They had spent only a short time together, yet she had felt as if she knew him better than some people she’d known for a lifetime. He opened up to her as strangers sometimes do, perhaps sensing the empathy she felt toward him.

‘’Hi, he ‘d said, standing over her table, my name is Bernie Swartz. Mind if I sit down?

Not giving her a chance to answer, he plunked himself in the seat opposite to her and grinning from ear to ear he continued, I saw you walk in the door, and — well, I hope you don’t mind my saying this, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You ‘re the most beautiful babe I’ve ever seen walk in this place.

She felt her face redden as it always did when someone paid her an extreme compliment, thank you, she said lowering her eyes and wanting to change the subject she replied, I bet you’re in show business.

I’m a bit player babe that’s all, a bit player. I’ve been knocking around this business all my life. Now, he shrugged, I’m fifty-three years old and all I’ve got to show for it is a crummy apartment, a beat-up old car and an SAG card. It’s a rough business, he shook his head, and noting Janicelle’s two-carat marquise diamond engagement ring nestled next to her wedding band with the row of equally impressive diamonds he said, from the looks of that rock you don’t exactly need to work.

I guess not, she laughed, I don ‘t need the money and, she added with a smile, I’m happily married and I have two fabulous sons. It’s just that, this is something I’ve always wanted to do and I’ll never be content until I know if I can. She looked at him rather sheepishly and asked, ‘’do you know what I mean?"

Yeah, I know. Bernie shook his head, brother, do I know. You sound just like everyone else that flocks to this town every week with their eye on the big time, but most of them just don’t make it, babe. Maybe one in a thousand, if they’re lucky, he emphasized the if, and I mean really lucky. Look at me for example, I’ve been plugging away for thirty-three years. You don’t realize how fast the years are slipping by, he snapped his fingers to indicate the passage of time, and then suddenly, you wake up and you haven’t got a thing to show for it. Not even a decent part to watch on the late show. His face was downcast and a mood of depression came over him.

By the way, what is your name?

Janicelle Jensen, she answered.

Janicelle Jensen! he whistled under his breath, ’that’s a good one, how’d you dream that up?

What do you mean, dream it up? It’s my real name, my married name.

Oh, I see, he sensed an irritation, but he was an expert in dealing with emotions, it’s just that, it’s beautiful, he smiled forgetting his own blue mood,

like you. Most girls change their names to sound like yours. They become Lorrie Lane or Kathy Carson or something snappy or glamorous-sounding like that, but you, well you don’t need to. But then, like I noticed when I first saw you sitting in here- you’re not like anyone else I’ve ever seen and that’s good, you know — that’s the best. If you’re different as well as beautiful they’ll notice you. All a girl like you needs is to be seen by the right people. Do you have an SEG card?"

An SEG card? She didn’t want to appear unknowing but - she didn’t know. No, she admitted, do you mind explaining what it is?

You don’t know what an SEG card is? He shook his head in disbelief, boy, you are green! You’d better take some tips from me, listen, he leaned forward, you’ll never get anywhere banging on the doors of agent’s offices. If you want to work you should become an extra, they’re the ones who get all the work.

Really, she exclaimed, but what are they? I’ve never heard of them before, honestly! He replied, they’re the background in the picture, the people in a night club, an airport, a busy street, any place where there’s crowds of people. He gestured with his hand, you never thought about it before, did you? Uh, well don’t feel bad, because that’s just the way the stars want it. They don’t want anybody to be recognized but them.

Janicelle observed the tightness forming around his mouth, the statement was loaded with bitterness. She had thought it was bitterness, but now looking back, she saw that it was more frustration than bitterness, frustration at the failure of a lifetime struggle.

Suddenly, she was jolted back to her present surroundings by the sound of heels clicking on the highly polished vinyl flooring. She looked over and saw that it was a black man dressed in a cowboy outfit who bore a startling resemblance to Sammy Davis Jr. He was grinning broadly, was that a good sign? He must have been in Central’s offices for an interview and been accepted into the Guild, working extras never went back nor could return to Central unless it was of extreme importance and never on interview day. Bernie had explained everything to her including the fact that there was a certain quota permitting Central to hire only a few people now and then.

That being, in most cases, only whenever one of the established extras either dropped out or retired. Maybe the smile on the black man’s face meant that they were hiring today. Well she’d soon find out, she glanced at her watch — it was time to go in now. Gathering up her portfolio containing her composites of pictures she walked down the hall. She stopped at the door marked Central Casting took a deep breath, opened the door and was totally unprepared for what she saw.

The hall had been quiet but inside Central’s offices there were what appeared to be, literally hundreds of people. The mumbling of voices could be heard throughout the room. Everyone seemed to be chatting as though they were all well- acquainted. Knowing that all these people were here for the interview made Janicelle’s heart sink as she realized how slim her chances were against so many, still she had to try. Making her way through the crowd she inquired at the desk as to procedure. The woman behind the desk asked her for her name and then said, please have a seat, your name will be called.

It was apparent to Janicelle that this would take the entire afternoon. Looking around the crowded room for a place to sit she spotted a small seat on the bench alongside the wall. She squeezed in next to a friendly-looking young girl. The girl smiled and made room for her hi, she said, you might as well make yourself comfortable, I’ve been here for an hour already.

Thank you, Janicelle answered, I didn’t expect so many to be here. She studied the people in the room, judging from this crowd I’d say the chances of getting into the guild are about one in a hundred.

Uh, uh, the girl nodded in agreement, it’s getting tougher every day, but a few do make it — so, she shrugged, who knows?

Janicelle felt let down. The encouragement she’d felt in the hall when she saw the black man dressed in the cowboy garb was shattered by the girl’s remark. In ten short minutes she had experienced a series of emotions ranging from high exuberance to utter despair that unknown to her at the time, was to become a way of life of which she was destined to become a part.

Leaning back against the wall she sighed wearily and again looked around her. The room was large and spacious, readily able to accommodate all the many people who were standing around waiting for their name to be called. Ever so often a woman would come out from the office where the interviewing was going on and announce someone’s name, then the two would disappear to another room behind a closed door. The pattern continued for the next two hours until finally Janicelle heard her name called, Janicelle Jensen, the woman called out in a clear crisp voice.

She felt uneasy, wondering once more if she had even the slightest chance. The hordes of people in the waiting room had thrown her and she struggled to emanate an appearance of self-confidence. She smiled at the stone-faced woman who was escorting her down the hall. She noticed, the iceberg expression never changed until they reached the office door and then quickly, a fixed smiled appeared on her face as she introduced Janicelle to the casting director.

Miss Jensen, this is Mr. Hal Samuelsson. Hal Samuelsson got up, extended his hand and smiling broadly said, nice to meet you Miss Jensen,

He made an impressive appearance, being a large man with a solid physique and steel grey hair. She guessed him to be fiftyish and she felt an instant sense of relief thinking that he looked more like someone from, her world rather than the ones who were slimmer and wore sleeked-down skinny pants, typical of most Hollywood types.

He began asking her questions — name, age, what could she do. Swim, ride a horse, play tennis, did she have a large wardrobe? He didn’t pause or question her when she answered twenty-five to the question concerning her age, although she was thirty. He merely proceeded to the next question then, having completed with the preliminaries he asked her to have her picture taken. Jokingly he kidded her about the way he had to take the picture. Though the same procedure was used as at the driver’s license bureau, he assured her that the photo would only be a reminder to him and the other casting directors of what she, as well as all of the people they had interviewed all day looked like. He then explained that if she was accepted it would take two weeks before she would receive a letter requesting her to come in for a second interview. At that time, she would be introduced to the other casting directors, he smiled warmly and told her to think positively.

Thanking him, she quickly left the room. It was over! After all that waiting, the interview itself had only taken about ten minutes. She sighed, a grateful sigh of relief to have it over and done with but now, two weeks of waiting and wondering. Two weeks — she repeated to herself. It would seem like two years.

Hal Samuelsson ran his hands through his thick graying hair and leaned back in his heavy swivel chair. The door to his office closed behind the last applicant of the day. Whew, he sighed to himself, what a raft of people there had been that day. It seemed like there were more of them each week. Where did they all come from? Hundreds of them, literally hundreds. All hopeful and eager at the chance to make it big, and out of that mob he could only accept a very few into the Guild. If such crowds continued to show up every week, even that few would soon have to be reduced. The Guild was practically saturated as it was, it was getting increasingly difficult to keep all three thousand of them working even half of the time.

He felt tired — interview days always left him drained, physically and emotionally, mostly emotionally. He was a warm-natured kindhearted man, and it was never easy having to reject the hundreds of hopefuls who walked through his door each week. Sometimes he wondered why he had ever gotten himself into such a position. Another job in the ordinary business world would surely be less disheartening. Dealing with facts and figures or products, or pushing paper, or any of those things had to be less draining than turning down young aspirants filled with ambition and drive. Aspirants attempting to find a place to display their talents, in a special niche that they could call their own.

No, his wasn’t an easy job but then, he supposed everyone had second thoughts about their jobs at one time or another. He shrugged it off, it was just one of those low days. Better not to dwell on it, get back to work. Soon — promptly at 4:00 — the teletypes would start rolling, the phones would start ringing, he would have to be ready. Ready to assign jobs to the hundreds of registered extras who would be calling in that afternoon–all anxious and waiting for work.

Briefly, before he met with the other four casting directors, he took a moment to close his eyes trying to hold the mental image of the applicants he had interviewed that day. There was one-yes, one — who stood out in his mind. She had an unusual name, started with a J. He sat up and began thumbing through the stack of applications. Finding a name with two J’s, he leaned back in his seat again holding the paper-up to study it. Janicelle–Janicelle Jensen. Musical sounding he thought, the name lingered with him. She fit the name he mused, and there was something different about her from the others — a graceful, ladylike quality. His mind quickly sought to categorized her, "what movies or TV shows required her particular type? What slot would she fit into, and how many similar types were already registered with the Guild? All elements had to be considered.

And then, he was reminded of Ruth. Ruth Silverman. Yes, she had had that same quality — years back when she had first come to the Guild, but Ruth had changed now — she had lost that softness which this newcomer had shown today. Disappointment and failure had changed Ruth. She had never reached the stardom that had been her dream. And now, well now – although, she still looked good — her attitude had hardened, and she had grown bitter. He couldn’t help but wonder how much longer Ruth would be able to hang on. He pondered the thought for a moment. Well at any rate, he took the application out of the stack, it could be an asset — a younger, fresher Ruth.

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CHAPTER 2

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Bernie

Feeling sad and terribly alone, Bernie Swartz wearily sauntered into his lonely apartment. He tossed his jacket then threw himself down on the day bed. He lay there awhile, quiet staring at the ceiling. Why couldn’t he quit thinking about that woman he had met last Wednesday? Janicelle Jensen — he said the name over and over to himself. She’d been in his mind a large part of everyday since then.

Alone in the world now except for his mother, Bernie’s outlook on life was one of despair. Living in what was an almost perpetual state of depression, he was a man tormented. Tormented with the worry of approaching age, with the realization of hopes lost — of castles crumbled. The future looked bleak, if indeed any future existed for him, there could be no more dreams nor fantasies. Dreams of his name in giant letters on a marque, of movie premieres with the red carpet rolled out awaiting his footsteps. Of flashing cameras, autograph hounds and Hollywood news reporters wanting to know about his new picture, his new love, his latest trip abroad. The unfulfilled dreams were killing him! Killing him because he had wanted recognition so desperately. How he had wanted it! Not only for himself but for Mama Swartz who had worked so hard for him sacrificed so much, so much in order that he, Bernie – could amount to something. Something that Papa and all the other Swartzs’ could have pointed to and said, look, there goes Bernie Swartz, our boy! But it never happened — it simply never happened.

No matter how hard he tried or pushed, or fought, nothing big had ever happened. Every year he kept saying, this year will be it! And yet – it never was. He had gotten his share of bit parts, just enough to keep him going — to make him think he still had a chance. He even paled around with some of the big stars, but they were too involved in trying to stay on top themselves.

And so, the years had come and gone. One by one — like waves on a boisterous beach, coming first in gigantic sweeping gushes, overwhelming in their exuberance, their promise of a bigger better one to follow. Mockingly laughingly as they crashed on the beach of his life with a tremendous thud, returning back to bring — still another. And then, as if exhausted from all the robust activity, succumbing gradually into a smooth tranquil ripple as the near darkening of dusk approached. Realizing that his own dusk was fast approaching, Bernie knew that his zeal, his enthusiasm, his drive had all ran the gauntlet. Yet, the desperate longing remained and even worse than the longing was - the loneliness.

By nature he was warm and affectionate, he enjoyed being around people and hated living alone in this crummy apartment. Sighing deeply, he got up off the day bed walked the few steps to the kitchen opened the refrigerator door and took out a beer. Since the breakup between himself and Sylvia he could barely afford even this little hole in the wall. He pulled back on the tab of the beer can and guzzled down half of the beer. Sauntering over to the TV set he turned on the dial and plunked himself down in the big overstuffed chair which needed reupholstering.

Damn he thought, why did he have to start thinking about Sylvia? That woman — Janicelle — had made him start thinking back about everything. Her face had been full of such anticipation. Ah yes, he sighed — how they all wanted it, the sweet smell of success. He had tried to forewarn her – to make her realize what she was up against – such unbeatable odds. Unbeatable for him and hundreds, thousands, of others.

The channel he’d clicked on was showing a re-run of an old situation comedy but his eyes now fixed in a daze, saw nothing. Instead, he saw only the film of Janicelle’s face that day. Her smile had been radiant she was so, so, he searched for the right words — enchanting. Not hard-boiled, not crass, not stuck on herself, not all the things that Sylvia had turned out to be. That bitch! He shuddered just thinking about the hell she’d put him through, even the dreary gloomy apartment reflected the despondent mood of that day he had caught Sylvia in bed with that bastard.

It had happened just when he would have least suspected it. He had finally landed one of the better agents in town and was getting a pretty good part here and there. Nothing big, but they were making out and then there was the future. The glorious future lay ahead with all those golden promises. A future that promised not just a career, but children for him and grandchildren for Mama and Papa Swartz. Then, as suddenly as it had started it stopped, and his world began to crumple apart. She had been so insensitive that she hadn’t even cared that he found her — them — in their own bed. And even now after all this time, the cruelty of her words still stung as though they had been uttered yesterday.

Get out of here, I don’t ever want to see you again, he yelled at her, half-crazed in his shock — his despair.

That’s just what I intend to do, she screamed, you’re a pig! You’ll never amount to shit!

From that moment on — that moment of Sylvia’s betrayal — his life began to go downhill. Papa Swartz had died unexpectedly, a stroke. It came as a hard blow to Bernie. He guessed that he had thought Papa would live forever, would always be there waiting behind the scenes to see him make it big. Loosing Papa had nearly cost him the loss of Mama too. She was never the same afterwards, she and Papa had been too close — too old world.

Now, the effects of the beer and his melancholy mood were beginning to make him feel drowsy. Getting up from his chair he turned off the jarring sound of the canned laughter. He had neither seen nor heard a word of the show. Flopping down on the day bed he could still hear Mama’s words months after Sylvia left, begging him to quit the business.

Why don’t you try something else, my poor darling? she pleaded with her son, her heart aching to see him change from the laughing, fun-loving boy she had raised to a cold cynical man as he went through rejection after rejection. How could this be happening to her Bernie? Bernie who loved people and who tried so hard to succeed. Just a touch of success for him was all she prayed for. But he would not — could not give up, and then — then, that harlot Sylvia had ruined him. And now she would never have the grand-children she had dreamed of, for she knew that Bernie would never remarry. No, there was too much disillusionment left in him for that. If only she could help him, but there was nothing she could do — nothing. The unhappiness and worry that were becoming so deeply etched in the lines of his aging face made her eyes fill with silent tears.

Poor Mama, Bernie thought. Why did she have to end up with a failure for a son? Why couldn’t he have been blessed with the keen business sense of his Jewish ancestry, and why did he always seem to gravitate toward gentiles even going so far as to marry one, a fact that Mama had found difficult to cope with. Yet, she had continued to help him as much as she could, giving him the few dollars that she was able to save each month making it possible for him to buy more clothes, more pictures for agents to distribute, more of everything in a last hapless try for success. But lately — lately her health had begun to fail. Bernie was worried sick and scared, because without Mama, he had no-one.

If only he could have a woman like that Janicelle Jensen, but then his life had been full of if-only’s. Never in a million years would a woman like that go for a fat slob like him. She would probably make it in, The Business, she had everything going for her, figure, looks, money, self-confidence. That kind always got what they wanted rather than the ones who really didn’t need it, while all the poor slobs like him kept on struggling for nothing against the impossible odds.

He liked her — too much! In addition to her beauty something that he couldn’t quite define made him feel good. She was the first person he’d ever seen who sat in Schwab’s Drug store without diverting her eyes from the person she was talking to in order to see if anyone important was coming in the front door, to see if she was being noticed. He was so accustomed to darting eyes and uh-uh responses that her genuine interest in their conversation had left him quite unsettled as he had truly felt understood. She had listened to him intently, sincerely as no other woman had in many years and hungering for attention and warmth he had responded, so much so that he wanted to run back for more.

Finally, succumbing to the drowsiness that was slowly creeping over him, he began to drift asleep. His last thoughts slipped deep into his subconscious mind, that’s what class is, real class. Janicelle was sheer class.

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CHAPTER 3

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Janicelle

For the next two weeks Janicelle anxiously checked the mailbox every morning immediately following the mailman’s departure and then one day the reply came along with all the bills, the junk mail, and the various other usual trivia.

A long slim envelope that by its very appearance had a way of distinguishing itself from all the rest — a letter of acceptance.

Dear Miss Jensen,

I am happy to inform you that you have met the required qualifications of The Screen Extras Guild.

However, a second interview will be necessary in order that. the other casting directors will be able to meet you. Please call the office and the secretary will arrange an appointment. We will look forward to seeing you.

Sincerely,

Hal Samuelson

Casting Director

Cenral Casting

She had made it! The second meeting would only be a formality, she was in! The letter had come complete with hand books, instruction manual, the constitution and by-laws of Central Casting and benefits from the Hollywood Motion Picture Relief Fund if she wanted them. She read the instructions carefully which explained the procedure for determining work. Every afternoon at four o’clock, she was to call Central, a switchboard operator would answer the phone, all Janicelle should do was give her name. The operator would then put her on hold while Janicelle’s name was announced over the large PA system to the casting directors. The casting directors at the same time would be receiving orders by teletype from the various studios stating the reporting time, dress requirements, number and type of extra players needed and the various other conditions of employment. If there was a request for her particular type and she was chosen, the operator would report back to Janicelle rendering all the necessary instructions. If there were no request coming in from the studios at all, the operator would say the two words all extras dreaded to hear—No Work. However, if there was promise of more requests forthcoming she would be told to, Try Later.

It sounded simple enough, but ultimately Janicelle would learn that dialing Central was no easy task, that if one received the, Try Later response, it could literally mean spending the next two and a half hours on the phone. There were approximately three thousand extras registered with Central Casting with at least ninety percent of them actively pursuing work every day. Therefore, a large majority of Extra Guild Members were dialing the phone from 4:00 to 6:30, jamming the lines to the point where it was exceedingly difficult to affect a breakthrough.

Although specially designed telephone equipment permitted Central’s trained operators to service three thousand incoming calls per hour, the lines were seldom free. The seasoned extra became extraordinarily adept at dialing the phone while simultaneously accomplishing a sundry of other duties. The real challenge lay in getting ahead of the others, to be the first to call in at four o’clock. To be at home made things easier, finger posed to dial the well-known number, but when working on a set it was much more difficult. The extra had to keep a close eye on the clock after spotting previously where all the pay telephones on the lot were located, but worse than that, was to be placed in a position in the scene that would require remaining there when the others could be excused. In late-afternoon shots being placed around the principals of the