i stand corrected

working as i do, alongside actors of all varieties--struggling, out of work, auditioning, not auditioning, extras, and a smattering of those who actually succeed--i thought i'd heard it all. i thought i'd heard every encouraging word, every warm up exercise, every bonding story, every pretentious name drop of instructors i've never heard of, nor care to, every bragging triumpth, every ruthless gossip, every ANNOYING habit. well, as of last night, i stand corrected. here is how the conversation went:
while eight people huddle around one slab of counter, vying for space to rest their plate of tri-colored chips and guacamole (otherwise known as staff meal), one butler responds to another:

butler: "how did i never notice your accent before?" i myself was puzzled that i didn't notice this butler's accent before, yet shrugged it off as a by-product of the fact that i manage an ever-changing pool of over 600 butlers. sometimes it's hard to remember a name, or an accent.

ponytail girl: "i'm not actually brititsh, i'm merely practicing." okay. obnoxious, but being a non-actor, i guess i shouldn't knock the dedication and hard work it takes to daily perform for people who tell you you're just not good enough for them (the commonly fruitless audition), then once the part is offered, to have to pull out an accent on command. okay, i'll give you that, ponytail girl. i guess. but then it gets good. and keep in mind, this girl does not break her accent all night.

butler: "oh, are you doing a show?"

ponytail girl: "no, i'm just going for a visit, and don't want to sound strange, so i'm doing a bit of practicing." good luck with that. this is when 'the captain' (that's me!) must walk away in order to maintain diplomatic relations with all her staff and not snarf the guacamole out of her nose all over practicing ponytail girl.

our british chef also got a kick out of ponytail girl, and dubbed her 'madonna'.