Hot Mess

Recently we have been having a few issues with hot water in the apartment.... and by issues I mean we haven't had any.
Let me preface this by saying that when I come home from work I stink of BBQ sauce, it clings to me like a 3 year old boy who still breast feeds clings to his mothers nipple. It's in my hair, my clothes and my soul.
The other day I waltzed home from a double shift late one night and really, really needed a shower. I stripped down so that little Rob could take a few breaths of fresh air and jumped merrily into the shower, turned it on and waited for the hot water... and waited.... and waited.
After 5 minutes of standing there, my nipples erect enough to cut glass and little Rob retreating back inside my stomach, I realized that perhaps there was an issue with the hot water. I wrote an angry email to the Super (also called Rob but not to be confused with little Rob) and decided that I would boil a kettle in my quest for hot water.
I made a rookie error, of course I let the kettle boil, of course I screamed in agony as i poured the water over my head, of course at that moment the mouse chose to run into the bathroom causing me to scream even more. I abandoned my idea of a hot shower and instead splashed sub zero temperature water onto my shivering body trying desperately to wash off the soapy suds.
The next morning I rose early to embrace the hot water which would surely have been turned on by now.... no such luck. I now smelt of sweat, sleep, BBQ and a smattering of aftershave and deodorant to cover the smell. Amazingly two individual people that day told me I smelt good.... I have no idea of what their heritage was, but apparently where they are from the smell I was emitting was pleasant.
I returned home from another BBQ filled day at work to discover a hand scrawled note plastered to my front door 'Tomorrow No Hot Water.' Thanks for the heads up, perhaps one of these a few days ago wouldn't have gone a miss!!
Another cold water splash shower sent me on my way to bed as I dreamed of splashing about in the kiddies pool.
The next morning I awoke like a kid on Christmas, or a jew on Chanukah (8 days of presents.... we don't get as excited). I leapt in the shower and there it was, steam! Beautiful hot steamy water gushing forth from the faucet. I gorged myself on it's heat, blissfully unaware that the water was getting hotter and hotter. Soon the water was burning holes in my skin. The Super had fixed the hot water alright... he had fixed it so much that each drop of it was like sulphuric acid gnawing away at my pinky white body.
I put the tap to the coldest the shower would go and miserably washed in a lukewarm rain as the smell of BBQ sauce wafted into the air.

The Audition

So I am not in New York to hunt for women, I'm here to find some work as an actor and this week I had a few auditions.

Surprisingly this tale begins with a callback from one production that wanted a second look at me. To put it in X Factor terms I had just sung for the judges and had received 3 yes', my English accent had the potential to hold me back due to it being an American play.
So on thursday I went back for another audition, I was essentially off to boot camp. This time though every time I read I had to do it in an American accent. Unfortunately the sides (script) that I had been sent by email were not Mac compatible, so I had to turn up early to the callback to pick up a script and then take myself off to a coffee shop to learn my lines. It was the equivalent of when someone changes their song last minute in order to impress Cowell and co.
My competition for the part wasn't as large as I expected, in fact there were only 4 of us who had been called back, considering there had been close to 100 poeple at the initial audition I saw that as a good thing. The first guy going for the part was a 27 year old flaming homosexual who looked like a 15 year old boy but had gray hair. Next was a tall, handsome, blonde man who oozed attractiveness and finally was a guy who looked like Chace Crawford...... shit.
I then sat and waited.... boy did I wait. I arrived at the studios at 5:30 and wasn't called in until 8:15!! After reading a few times with a couple of guys who were going for the role of the protagonists father I was then called in to read with a lady going for the part of the Mother. It was a disaster. It was awkward and generally shit. The director stopped us halfway through and explained that in the scene my character was combing his mothers hair, the woman then blurted out "it's fine Rob, you can touch me anywhere you like, however you like." There was then an awkward second of silence before I said "that's the first time a woman has said that to me in a while." Second time around the scene was still terrible.
It was now 9:15 and the waiting area which had previously been quiet and full of tension had now become an arena of boredom. Soon I started talking to the gay guy, handsome man and Chace Crawford. Then, joy, the girls arrived! I decided to talk to them instead.
I had stupidly forgotten to eat dinner and my energy levels were low, I ploughed on though and read for the director 8 times! Eventually at 11 I left. Handsome Man had since been told he could leave so I was now down to the final 3 and would receive a call the next day.

I woke up on Friday and waited..... and waited.... and waited. I booked a weekend to Chicago, then waited some more. My phone did not ring. Fuck, I hadn't got the part. Then suddenly in a blaze of flashing lights and crappy ringtones my phone burst into life..... I didn't recognize the number. Oh..... My..... God.
I tentatively answered.... "hello?" "Hey Rob, it's Josh." Josh Fineman my best friend as a baby was in New York, I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice at it not being the theatre calling.
We chatted and then my phone beeped..... Incoming call from an unrecognized number. Holy Shit.
I hung up on Josh instantly and answered the phone..........













So Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls if you would like to see Robert Gilbert in his New York stage debut then follow this link to get tickets!
http://www.smarttix.com/show.aspx?showcode=TRE7
It's only in a small theatre (I emphasize the word small here) and contrary to rumors spread by Dylan Viner there is no full frontal nudity.
You gotta start somewhere.... and I'm starting here!

Good Meet, Wrong Meat

On Saturday night after a lovely dinner with the family (more about them later) myself, Dan and Desi left Tribeca in search of a good night out. After a few drinks at the female Robert Gilbert's apartment (hello Lisa Schwartz) we decided to call it a night.

I was a little tipsy at this point and on my way home decided to stop at Duane Reed for some late night snacks. Unfortunately for all concerned the 24 hour store was closed because the manager wanted to count money (perhaps he was auditioning for the role of Shylock in the local theatre production).

Dismayed and heartbroken I turned around after banging on the doors to be greeted by a sort of familiar face. 'Hello Rob' said the person... I had that terrible moment where someone knows you but you don't know them..... 'It's me... Vanessa, we met at Hectors rooftop party.' Click. I remembered who the girl was, a childhood friend of a friend originally from Chile.

It soon transpired that Vanessa was off to a bar to drink.... alone. It was already 1:30 and I had work the next day but needless to say my penis took over, 'I'll join you' I quipped, and we were off. The bar was a shithole, it was like a smelly function room where the wierd kid from school had his barmitzvah and invited everyone to come, everyone did come to look at his sisters enormous chest.

I was reconsidering my actions when Vanessa begged me to stay because she had a friend coming who was in love with her and she didn't want to be left alone with him. Into the bar then strode Kayvon. A towering beast of a man from an exotic country. The next 45 minutes were spent with me sat between Kayvon and Vanessa as he tried to woo her whilst I attempted to kill the atmosphere with unsexy topics of discussion such as soft cookies and Snow Leopard for Mac. Vanessa and I then excused ourselves to go to the toilet to come up with a plan to ditch Kayvon. The plan wasn't the most complex, Vanessa said she was tired and wanted to go home, I chimed in that I lived near her so she wouldn't be walking home alone. By now it was 3 and I had work in a few hours so despite Kayvon's protests the plan went off without a hitch. MI6 have now offered me a job.

At work the next day royalty arrived, my family. Now I have been doing pretty well so far and am yet to really mess up any orders. But this was to be my biggest test so far. Let me run through each member of the family and detail why eating dinner with them is a pain.....

Mum - Does not eat red meat, chicken (except on shabbos), bread, strawberries. Likes Salad and Grey Goose Vodka.

Dad - If he has exercised will eat a hearty meal. If not then wants to share most dishes. Won't eat Pork, a problem in a rib restaurant.

Claire - Will not eat red meat, fish, most sauces, anything exotic, vegetables. WIll eat Burgers, Pizza and Chicken Nuggets. Elizabeth - Likes sauce on the side and recently is Dad's new sharing partner. Will eat meat.

Special Guest Daniel - Wont eat Fish (but will try it). Eats everything else.

The order was a nightmare. Salad with sauces on the side, shrimps added to things, coleslaw substituted for Chips, Chips substituted for Sweet Fries. Coke's without Lemon/Ice, the works. You aren't supposed to tell a guest to fuck off.... but I came close. Of course when the food came out I had rung a few things in wrong, my loving mother pointed this out and despite me protesting my innocence she stood by her word. Thank god they liked the food I did get right though, a rarity in most restaurants we eat at. If I ever have a more complicated order I will let you know.

Hallelujah

We signed a striker! Heavens above! Name a stand after him, give him the freedom of Loftus Road. See children, dreams really do come true. Jay Simpson all you have to do is win us promotion.

We Are The Gilbert Boys

So yesterday my cousin and lifelong partner in crime, Daniel, decided he had had enough of married life out in Westchester and wanted to spend the day with his bachelor cousin.

The first order of the day was to find a decent football match to play in. The Yanks affectionately call it 'Pick-up Soccer,' we just call it a kickabout in the park. After walking across the length and breadth of Manhattan, discussing QPR's memorable 2-1 victory over Accrington Stanley that night, we were eventually steered towards a game taking place over on Chelsea Piers. We arrived and were greeted by a throng and Trinidadians who were all playing the beautiful game. One of the teams needed 2 extra players, so we were up!

Now when Dan and I play football I like to think we have a telepathic understanding that only family members can have, we are if you like a Jewish Gary and Phil Neville. Dan is Gary, successful, committed one of the best at what he does, a leader... I however am more like Phil, jack of all trades master of none, reckless challenger, living of my more gifted family members name. It's a burden I have learnt to deal with. As the game started one thing became clear, the Trinidadians were fast, they were shit, but they were fast. After about 5 minutes I was blowing out my arse as our self appointed captain barked out orders in a lilting Caribbean accent which I could only but smile at.

Dan had had enough of this game though, he had spied another game for us to play in. The other game looked a little crap to me though, many fat people were playing. I highlighted this to Dan but he assured me that during his time in Mexico he found that fat people were arguably better players. This wasn't the case here however, I looked pretty quick on this pitch and soon we decided to leave the game, shame, I felt I had found my level.

Finally an 11 a side team were holding trials so Dan and I jogged over to see if we could join in. Stavros (the man running the game) seemed reluctant to let us play, perhaps intimidated by our Neville brother skills and Jonas Brothers looks, he soon subsided and allowed us a kickabout. The game was 15 minutes long, nobody did anything spectacular and more importantly Dan and I did nothing wrong. As we trudged off the pitch Stavros sidled up to us and said "Go and train with our 3rd team, they are more your standard.". This was a phrase I had heard often and so I began to jog over, Dan however is not accustomed to this, demanded that he was the best player on the field and told me we were going. As we left a bitter Frenchman who had been cut walked off with us objecting furiously at his treatment, he claimed he had won 1st prie for his University for football, must have been a shit team because he was bollocks.

A quick dinner was followed by donning our handbags and gladrags, we were out to take New York by storm. A few weeks ago I had gotten disgracefully drunk, the type of drunk where you are incoherent and susceptible to drinking red bull and absinth. The reason behind this was Australians. Regular readers will know that Australians often bring out the worst in me when I drink. Anyways the two Aussie lads from that night had invited me over to their place for some drinks before they headed out to a club. Sounded like a plan.

We arrived at the Aussies place to be greeted by a sausage fest. The room was meat heavy. The Aussies assured us that some females would be arriving soon. They did. I wish they hadn't. Australian chavs aren't funny or interesting people, they are also a little disgusting when you notice that they haven't shaved their legs and have just bleached the hairs to try and hide them. After avoiding direct contact with the hairy chavs we set off for the club. The place we were heading was meant to be cool, it's the first eco-friendly club in the world apparently. Dan had fucked up though, he was wearing Converse... and not just any Converse, ones with cartoons on them. Entry was looking unlikely. Those Aussies though... they may have lost the cricket but they pulled through last night. As we arrived they told us we were on their guest list and to just walk in, which we did.... fantastic.

As we walked in Queen Latifah wobbled out of a limo and entered the club at the same time, essentially she walked into the club with us. It's fine, when I come home you can all touch me. The Aussies then surpassed themselves and told us they had a table, brilliant! This proved to be a false dawn however. You see Queen Latifah had invited Rhianna to come to the club and the manager was having a shitfit. We were kicked off the table which was now exclusively for girls. The drinks were ludicrously priced and suddenly our evening of fun was jeopardized. Dan then put that Oxford brain of his to good use. He grabbed the Hairy Aussie Chav and enquired if she would like to pass her drinks from the table down to us on the dance floor. She did. We each spent $20 that whole night.

A Week of Geek

So the theme for this week has certainly been 'Geek' and it's a theme I have thoroughly embraced.. I pre warn for some people this update will make limited and little sense... but do read it will offer all the usual odd musings.

As I said geek was the word this week and the first geeky act to regale you all with took place on Thursday. Now I don't have school on Thursday and the other two guys in my class have long since banded around the idea of Star Wars Thursday... stay with me here people... I'll happily admit I am a fan, I've seen all the films and think they are good (well the original 3) I am not however a crazed fanboy who gives a shit if Han shot first, but I decided that Star Wars Thursday should indeed be this thursday.

So I awoke early on wednesday and journeyed to the Upper East Side to my friends apartment, snacks in tow and arrived ready for a day of lightsabers, Jedi's and Siths. Now my friends roomates have between them two dogs, one currently has the worst cough you could imagine. Anytime it moves or is even remotely excited it weezes uncontrollably for twenty minutes, not unlike Darth Vader really. The other dog is a puppy, but it's huge and is completely unaware of it's surroundings in relation to it's size. So for 8 hours the background to the films was one dog dying on its arse while the other hurtled around smashing and breaking anything of value in the apartment.

And so with two dogs a million miles away from Crufts dying and smashing respectively we began...... Da da da da, da da da da da da da da da daaaaaaaa..... Daaaaa da da da da da da da da da da da da da da da (that's the theme for those who are wondering) Controversially we stared with Episode 3 which was obviously made in '05. I was pro the original trilogy however my friend Tim felt they would hold more gravitas if we saw the fall of Anakin.

So after 2 and a half hours of terrible acting (Hayden Christensen you are a disgrace to your trade) and some even worse dialogue as George Lucas showcases that living your life obsessed with Wookies and The Force causes one to lose touch with human dialogue. Finally Ewan McGregor makes a big speech, Anakin... you dick, you were the chosen one, or something along those lines. Hayden dons the black helmet and screams NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Episode 4....Da da da da... you get the idea. Now obviously in the story Episode 4 takes place after Episode 3 however they made over 20 years apart so suddenly when Alec Guinness and Darth layeth the smack down it doesn't have the same impact as a CGI Yoda double backflipping and beating up a robot.

As Darth revealed his big secret I left for home deciding not to watch a group of little teddy bears bring down the Empire. I'm not gonna lie to you here I 100% imagined I had a lightsaber and was picking of Stormtroopers left right and centre in the shower that evening.

So the next part of geekery came on Friday night with the release of Watchmen in cinemas. I read the book a few months ago after hearing great things about it and it's actually good. Once you're over the fact you are reading a giant comic you get really into it.
I was excited for the movie but wasn't simultaneously creaming my pants with every internet geek who writes a blog....wait a second....

Now my problem arose in that I wanted to go see the movie but had nobody to go with, my Star Wars boys had been given 2 free tickets (pricks) and my roommate who would've seen it with me was out of town. Dylan was unavailable for other reasons.
Now those that can read between the lines of previous messages will have worked out I've been seeing a girl... well now she gets a name... Anna.
Yes that's right Ladies and Gentlemen I asked the hot girl who is way out of my league to come and see the geekiest film of the year with me. Chutzpah... I've got it.
She agreed!!!! However I would have to owe her one... her giant Sex and the City box set looked like being forced upon my eyes.

So I book the tickets thursday for Friday night.... yes that's right a full 24 hours before to see a movie! We arrive for the 10:30 showing nice and early at 9:45... but something isn't right, they are selling comic books outside and the stench of retainers and inhalers is wafting throughout the cinema. We get to the our screen at 10 and there is a que of about 200 people!!!! what... the... fuck!!!
Thankfully I make the bold decision to wait for a seat on the balcony and we are able to watch the film with a good view.
Now like I said I'm not a fanboy.. I like the book. So no I didn't care about the lack of squid, or lack of black freighter, or lack of Under the Hood. It was a good movie. Anna was expecting a nice comic book Spiderman type affair, so when The Comedian bends Silk Spectre over a Pool table and rapes her Anna started to worry! She did however enjoy it....

And as for owing her a favour.... well she got so drunk on saturday night I pretended to be really pissed off so she felt guilty and I am no longer in her debt.... like I said, Chutzpah.

Name drop.

Michael Harris - Watching Revenge of the Sith before the others makes it all so sad. Anakin has been through so much and he's just trapped in that suit.. and nobody knows... really puts a different spin on things.

Rebecca Gilmore (again I know!) - I'm doing a scene from a play and the author is called Rebecca Gilman.. is this one of the many variations on your name we use!!??

Jamie Simon Slavin - Your most recent photo album is probably the funniest thing on Facebook

A Vast Improv....ment

So after a few weeks of writing about things not regarding the reason I am out here I thought I would update everyone with some acting stuff...

I take an Improv class at school and needless to say I am the teachers pet. She loves me. Maybe it's because I have a very overactive imagination and this gives me the chance to just go and not think. Anyways after a glowing report in class (anyone who went to school with me will know that's rare) she suggested I try an open mic night an an improv theatre. She suggested The Peoples Improv Theatre.
How the open mic, or improdome as it is I guess comically called, works is that teams of 2 to 4 people stand up, take a suggestion from the audience and then create a scene. Unfortunately I couldn't convince my two friends to come with me and so went alone. 
Suffice to say I was nervous, I mean I had no idea if I was funny or not or if these random people would laugh at me but I sucked it up signed my name up to be placed in a team and decided I needed some Dutch courage.

The show started... a fat... well a fat loser walked on the stage and made a joke about Battlestar Galactica which precisely zero people responded to, sensing he was on the back foot he slunk away and called the first team on the stage.
Any fears I had about not being funny were washed away as I watched 3 people die on their feet, one guy constantly mugging to the crowd whilst a girl tried desperately to create a scene. All the while someone who can only be described as Lloyd from Entourage pranced about.

Next up were an even worse team. They would probably have been o.k had they not had a Jack Black wanna be in their midst. He took his shirt off, jiggled his belly, pulled stupid faces and shouted about bearded ladies giving hand-jobs... he tried so hard to be funny it was painful. He pretended to be gay, a woman and English all in one scene.... He was however still funnier than Dane Cook.

After that shambles Battlestar Galactica man was back up and calling my name out along with 3 other random guys. I walked onto the stage to be greeted by a scared looking middle aged black man, a man with the bushiest beard ever and a homeless guy..... 'This could be interesting' I thought.

Now essentially in improv you are meant to take any suggestion given to you by the person you are acting with, so if I said "Wow it's such a hot day" it would be bad if my scene partner said "No...it's snowing."..... With that in mind I will now describe the train wreck that was our 4 man team.
So our suggestion was looking at the stars.... The homeless guy then proceeded to imitate a star...fine, however he did nothing else...just.... twinkled. After that we ended up in a doctors office... but the homeless guy barged into the scene and demanded someone french kiss his belt buckle. It was at this point I unfortunately was first able to smell the homeless man. After attempting to rearrange the scene to suit the homeless guy he was off again... running to the stage curtains and wrapping himself in them.... he said nothing. So me and nervous black guy started doing a scene in a therapists office. Next thing I know I hear a sound coming from the curtains. The homeless guy is screaming "I am the Pope of New York...woooooooo." Nervous black guy looked terrified. 
Bushy beard man takes up the initative and pretends to look at some art, nervous black guy starts going crazy demanding to be 'held back'... so I restrain him. He then starts speaking for 2 minutes about the Mona Lisa only to be interrupted by the homeless guy demanding someone French Kiss his belt buckle and then feigning a heart attack. 
The lights went down.... we were done.
As we trudged back to our seats bushy beard guy and nervous black guy high fived me as homeless guy wandered off into the night.
On Wednesday I will be going back to the Improdome... however I will demand that my two friends come with me

So before I return home in June my goal is to get signed by an agency. Now our school isn't showcasing until June so I've taken matters into my own hands and decided to whore myself out to agencies and try to get their attention. I started the process a few weeks ago by getting my headshots done by a nice Japanese man named Moto and have since brushed up my resume. I sent off a load of headshots, letters and resumes to agents as the next step.

After that I planned on cold calling. So last thursday I spent the whole day traipsing around Manhattan smiling politely and blagging my way past security to get into agents offices. Now you aren't supposed to turn up at Agents doors... not in New York anyways. So instead of asking to see any agents I have started by merely charming the receptionists. Now every single agency either has an overly gay receptionist, a hot female receptionist, or a bitter rejected actor for a receptionist. The trick is to avoid the latter and flirt with the first two. So I Englished up my accent a little and poked my dimples to make them seem deeper and off I went. 

I was on a roll, gay receptionists loving the dimples. Hot receptionists giggling slightly at the accent things were going well. I thought the day would be hell but it turned out O.K until I reached my final destination. The final agency had been recommended to me so I walked in full of the joys of May with my final envelope of goodies. As I walked in I knew things would be different, this agency was big... the shit if you will. I reached the receptionist... "HI" I blared in my fully clipped accent with just a hint of London charm. The receptionist looked up... she wasn't hot... she wasn't gay... oh god... she was a failed actress. My heart sank. "What do you want?" I panicked... no longer was I suave, no longer was my accent a weapon, merely an obstacle which would stop her from understanding me. I blurted out something about a headshot and representation which she barely acknowledged. I was losing... then it hit me... THE DIMPLES, WHIP OUT THE DIMPLES. So I smiled an odd slightly creepy smile which was met with an unenthusiastic look. I dropped my headshot on the desk and darted out..... I tell you something, acting is hard!

So name drop

Joanna Williams - I hope you enjoyed that read, and are now safely in Highgate.

Jack Burke - I do believe I have never name checked you! Ridiculous! Your video message still made me laugh.

Spurs fans - At least you didn't lose pathetically to Barnsley this weekend.

Miss you all

Rob