MY BIG RUBBER BUTT: Adventures of a Transgendered Comic. Part 5.

I sat outside of 30 Rockefeller Plaza for about a half hour. It was a beautiful fall day, and there weren't as many tourists, as usual. I watched people go by, I watched a painter sprucing-up the facades over the entrances, while the moments ticked-away. The skating rink was in the process of being turned-into a skating rink.

At quarter-of, I grabbed my bag and headed inside. It was much darker inside. Marble walls seemed to turn night into day. I found the visitors center after a little direction. The girl behind the counter wasn't overly impressed. She took my ID (which had my legal name on it), gave me a once-over and issued me a badge. She was very business-like. And, I got the feeling that she'd seen just about everything.

The elevators took me to a floor I assumed would be bustling with activity. Instead, I got an old reggae janitor, who directed me. There was no one in the halls. There was no one in the offices. All there was was a sign, directing those who were there to audition for 30 Rock to have a seat in the green room. So, I did.

I looked out the windows at the roof below, and the street below that. I heard a phone ring in the distance. There was a sound of conversation in another room. I rifled the magazines and sat down.

After a few minutes, a woman wearing a tight red cocktail dress, and sporting bleach-blonde locks like Marily Monroe came in. She was stunningly beautiful, perfectly sized and shaped, with not a single wrinkle in her skin. I hated her.

She grabbed her bag, and coat, and split, without a word.

Before long, a 20-something-looking young man came in. We introduced ourselves and chatted. This was his "first audition, in years", he said. He did a lot of things when he was a kid, bur had taken a few years off.....and, he also said, he knew the casting director well. When he told me that he was also up for the part that I was up for, my heart sank.

Then another 20-something came in. Then another. Before long a trickle turned into a tide and I was surrounded by 10 young men, who could all have posed for the cover of GQ.

......And, there was me.

What's wrong with this picture?~