WHO’S GOT TALENT?

I’m not going to fast-forward to the outcome of my audition for America’s Got Talent. No, no. I need to start from the very beginning and take you through it nice and slow- just the way I experienced it.

9AM

Richie and I arrive at the Jacbob Javitz Convention Center on the West Side. After almost mistakenly entering the Robotics Competition on the first floor, we discover that AGT auditions are being held below on the ground floor. Upon arrival, we discover right away that we are in for the long haul: a 2 HOUR wait in an already long line that has formed outside in 40-degree weather. Oh, and that 2-hours is just for you to get back inside the building whereby you can begin registration. This qualifies as the first moment in the day when I wondered- How bad do I really want to try this?

10AM

I have become chummy with my fellow standees. In front of me is a family punk band made up of a father and his ‘tween daughters who are all decked out in oversized sunglasses and sparkly guitars and bass. Cute.

Two people behind me is a woman who is an old pro at these insane auditions. She has come with a folding chair, food, and hair/make-up kit. She saucily explains that she got home from work at 4am this morning and got back up at 6am to come here and so she is “an angry woman.” While she sits back in her folding chair putting her face on, she explains that she has auditioned for American Idol twice and America’s Got Talent once before so she knows how this works. She then offers the 12 year old girl behind her some make up. For one dollar.

Directly behind me is a sweet woman who is a gospel singer accompanied by her upbeat, hilarious sister. At one point the Gospel Singer decides to go brave the Starbucks line (a 30 minute wait!). A P.A. comes around to take our pictures and hand out numbers to each contestant. When the Gospel Singer returns, her sister decides to play a trick on her. She tells the Gospel Singer that when the P.A. came by she told each contestant they had to perform a bit of their act to prove they were legit. Since the Gospel Singer wasn’t there, her sister had to cover and impersonate her, singing for the camera. The Gospel Singer looks shocked. She keeps the joke going straight faced, even incorporating Richie and I, until suddenly it all falls apart with one simple question.

“What song did you sing?”
“What song did I sing? Oh, I sang. Um. What was that song I sing? Oh yeah, it was. It was. Oh, yes, I remember! I sang-”

Too late. Everyone busts out laughing.

11AM

Finally. The line begins to move. The Family Punk Band, Gospel Singer, and I all make it in to the building with our guests. Right away P.A.’s herd us in to this big mob like scene. A man on a megaphone stands on a bench at the very front shouting unintelligible commands. Probably 150 people stand between me and this guy. At least another 150 stand behind me too. It’s madness.

For the next thirty minutes we stand in this huge ball of people pretending to cheer, wave our hands about, whistle, whatever. MegaphoneMan just wants to get some good camera shots of “The New York
Crowd.” Fifteen minutes later, Richie and I have “represented” enough. Sadly, there’s fifteen more minutes to go. Moment #2 of: How Bad Do I Want To Try This?

11:30AM

The 150 people who were standing behind me are funneled downstairs to “The Chambers”- the area where the actual auditions are held. The rest of us are told to stand back and wait for our numbers to be called before we approach the registration tables.

12:30PM

My number is called. 951. I now head over to the registration line. Yes, another line. I wait in this line for 45 minutes before I can register. Now Richie looks at me like, “Seriously. Tell me now how bad you want to do this.”

1:30PM

To The Chambers! I pass the security checkpoint. I look to the signs to point me in the right direction.

HOLDING ROOM —>
<---PROCESSING

Am I here for an audition or a legal infraction?

Another P.A. approaches me. He asks me to “move along” to The Holding Room. I follow orders and Richie and I head in to a Ballroom where we have to register at the door. Once inside, there is no more decorum. You have to hustle to find chairs to sit in. Richie and I succeed in finding a little corner to settle in to. Okay, at this point the majority of waiting should be over, right? I should be up soon. Think again…

2:30PM

A nearby P.A. stands on a chair and proceeds to shout in to his megaphone. I understand 25% of what he says. Another P.A. stands on the other side of the room and repeats the message.

“THANK YOU FOR COMING.
WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE WAIT.
WE UNDERSTAND MANY OF YOU HAVE BEEN WAITING A LONG TIME.
SOME FOLKS SINCE LAST NIGHT.
HOWEVER, IN 45 MINUTES WE WILL START CALLING NUMBERS.
AND THEN,

WE WILL FIND THE 1 MILLION DOLLAR WINNER!”

Lots of cheering ensues.
Wait, what?
Seriously?!
Richie and I look at each other pale faced.
45 minutes?!?!
SINCE LAST NIGHT?!?!?!

This is where we hit the wall. You know, like in a marathon? You think, wow. I’ve run 21 miles. But 5 more?? I’m not sure I can actually do that!

We very nearly walk out. But then we look at the clock. We’ve been here 5.5 hours already. Seems silly to waste 5.5 hours of my life with nothing to show for it. I mean, I wouldn’t very well run 21 miles and just stop cold. I would at least have the dignity to walk the final five. You know, like injured Olympians do?
Ugh.
We stay.

3PM

Numbers start getting called.
Not mine.

I decide to use the restroom. On my way, I am stopped by a P.A.

“Can you come back in the ballroom? We love your costume. We’d love to get you on camera, right up there in front.”
“Ummm. Suuuure,” I say with trepidation.

I guess I can wait.

For the next 30 minutes they gather everyone in the room in to another big mob, only this time I’m up in front with two cute little cowgirls, a ventriloquist, a woman dressed as an old man playing the tuba, and five dudes in what look like Moroccan dance costumes or something. We play, “Monkey Say, Monkey Do” for about half an hour. I do my share of senseless cheering all over again. The producers instruct the big grizzly bear of a man next to me yell, “Welcome to New Yooowaaaaaaak!” proudly and in his thickest NY accent. Afterwards the crowd and I are to wave our fists and jump up and down.
Too bad they didn’t allow pictures.

3:30PM

I finally get my bathroom break. Not a moment too soon.

4PM

MY NUMBER IS CALLED!

I line up with a number of other people and quickly learn that we are all singers. The P.A. leads the line of us to a hall outside an audition studio where we await further instructions. There is another group ahead of us being oriented by yet another P.A. The place is crawling with them! When he finishes with the first group he comes to us and explains the procedure.

It turns out we will go in the room in groups of 10 and audition for two producers. They will tell us on the spot if we move on to the next round. If they want to move someone ahead, they will ask us to step outside the room while they discuss. Then, the P.A. will pass along to us if any of us have made it. It all sounded simple enough. However, things start to look dismal when from out of the three groups before us, no one gets picked. The fourteen year old behind me starts freaking out.

“I hope they pick me! Gawd, I hope they pick me, mom! I want it so bad! I hope I’m what they are looking for. Oh my Gawd. Oh my Gawd…”

I yawn.
“Yeah. Me too,” says the P.A.

4:15PM

IT’S TIME. HAAAALLELUUUJAH!!
It’s our turn. The ten of us file in- the fourteen year-old, a mother, her daughter, a ten year old, an 11 year old, a guy who looks scared $@!tless, a tall, blonde-haired man, and another girl in her early 20s. Inside, two young looking producers sit behind a long table with laptops. They are pleasant, but not overly nice. They instruct us to take a couple steps forward, introduce ourselves, how old we are, where we are from, and then, just start.

I’m first.

I give the requisite information. And then, I open up my mouth and let the first words slowly trickle out of my mouth.

Right away, I know it’s not going to happen. As I sang my little heart out, every moment of the day seemed to come together in to one main thought:

There’s no way, they would ever take a girl who sings Mexican Mariachi music in Spanish.

After 7 hours of waiting outdoors, waiting indoors, joining the scream-fest, waiting in the dry, stuffy holding room, screaming again, and waiting again, I knew that my voice was not at its best. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t at its best. It didn’t matter, though because looking in to the producers’ eyes and singing my story to them, I felt that I finally saw what they saw: how is she marketable? Americans want to see acts they can cheer on week after week, making them proud to be…American! Mexican Mariachi? I knew right away, they weren’t gonna pick me.

4:30PM

In the end, they didn’t pick anyone in my group. The fourteen year old was crestfallen. Turns out she came all the way up from Maryland. I heard another parent tell his daughter they had to run and catch their flight home. The uber-nervous teenage boy who ended up stopping mid-song, but ultimately finished, let out a gigantic frustrated/angry sigh. I just ran back to the Holding Room to grab Richie and my pile of stuff. I was liberated, soooo ready to go home.

In the entire day, I only saw two acts get picked at all. One looked like a singer/guitarist. Another was a group of 10 kids dressed in black outfits with red ties. (Didn’t find out what they do.) On my way out of the Holding Room, I witnessed an influx of probably one additional hundred acts pouring. Outside at the registration table, there were hundreds more lined up.

I don’t know what happened to my friends, The Punk Rock Band and The Gospel Singer. However, I figure that from the thousands of acts who went in and out of the AGT auditions, probably only about 30 acts would ultimately be picked for the televised auditions. From that lot, only half would be singers. Doing the math, I think its doubtful that they moved on.

5PM

Q-Train home. Richie and I are both unbelievably exhausted. I know that I will never try out for a show like this again. It is not for me. The whole thing is kinda a crapshoot. Goodbye chaos.

TODAY

So, there you have it. I didn’t make it. But it’s totally cool. I am happy to be home, cozy and comfortable. I slept all evening when I got home last night. Sadly, today I woke up with a scratchy throat. I should have known this would happen. Saucy Lady with the Folding Chair warned everyone yesterday when we were out standing in the cold that she had woken up sick after her last American Idol audition because she waited so long in the cold. At the end of it all, I’m just happy that I stuck it out and was able to experience the process once in my life. Now, if anyone ever says to me as they often used to,

“You should try out for American Idol! Or maybe America’s Got Talent,” I know exactly what I shall say.

No thanks. I’ll find my way on my own.

Filed under Auditions, Music, Mariachi, America's Got Talent, Mexico | Comments (2)