My Hope. My Faith.

A little while ago, I submitted my headshot and resume to a craigslist posting asking for athletic men and women to play military on a new TV show. And then I promptly forgot about.

Early yesterady afternoon, I get a call from casting at the new Stargate series. Apparently...there will be a new Stargate show taping here in Vancouver and they wanted me to come in for a fitting, tomorrow, which is really today, February 11, 2009.

Funny thing is, the casting guy was like, I have a few questions, "What's your dress size?" I said, I had no idea. He asked, "Well, two (baaahahahha), four (hahahaha), six (hmmm...)?"

"Perhaps six to eight??" I ventured.

And, let me tell you, I could see his eyes pop out of his skull over the phone line.

"Eight?!" he exclaimed.

I back tracked, "Well, I don't really know. I think probably six?"

He said, "Well, you know, we're looking for people who are in shape." (Or something like that. I don't quite remember the exact words).

I said, "Yeah, I have an athletic body."

"That's what we're looking for. Can you come in for a costume fitting tomorrow at ten o'clock?"

I said, yes. Later it was switched to ten-thirty.

So, I walk into the studio and let me tell you, the wardrobe people were so nice! Ok, then a lady walked up to me and whisked me into a change room. There was another name pinned on the wardrobe and she wondered why they had the wrong name. It was another "R" name. Yeah, couldn't tell her.

Anyway, she said, "Try these two looks on and we will come back and take pictures." I said ok.

Pants were size 1/2 (ahahahahahahahahaha) and the shoes were size five. I wore a size five when I was seven years old.

So I waited for her to return.

She came back and said, "Oh, sorry, your name was on another list. This is not your wardrobe."

Yep, thought so.

So, she brought me to the area of the room where they were fitting the military people.

Please, keep in mind, that all the rest of the people getting fitted were in and out of the studio right quick. They got their sizes, got their picture taken and left. All the rest of the people, except for me.

The lady said, "What's your size?"

I said, "I'm not sure."

She put her hands around my waist and she said, "We'll put you in a four."

I just looked at her. But she missed said look because she scurried away so quickly.

I sat for a little while waiting, and another wardrobe person came by and asked, "What's your size again?" I told her that the first lady said I was a size four.

Second wardrobe lady looked at me. I silently agreed.

A few minutes later, I was led to a back room. I told second wardrobe lady that I don't think I'm a four, due to my booty.

She nodded and said, "I brought a four and a six. Just humour her (her being first wardrobe lady) and try the four first."

Hmmm... did the four even fit over my ankles?

Next, I tried the six and it fit better, except it was tight, on account of, that's right, the booty.

So, when first wardrobe lady came to check on me, I told her, and she looked, surprised and said, "Oh you have a booty."

Uh huh. Yeah.

So she went to work adding a little extra material. Too bad she had to butcher those pants, because apprently, they were really well made.

Annnnyway, about 45 mintues after I arrived at the studio, I was fit into the pants, shirt, jacket and boots. They took a picture and I was on my way.

When I was younger, this very experience would have traumatized me. I would have felt so fat. Growing up surrounded by a lot of white and asian people who typically do not have booties. Yep, that will do something to the self esteem of a bootylicious black girl.

Now, I'm proud of my booty. And I do not think I am fat.

Yes, I have a booty.

And for that, I can thank my Mama.

Thank you Mama.