along with her application. They were told by one of the people collecting applications that they would hear something within a few weeks if Hannah was selected to move to the next step of the casting process.
As Dawn and Hannah made their way back out into the mall, Hannah said, “How cool would that be, to, like, actually be on a show?”
Dawn said, “Pretty cool.” She thought about how difficult things had been for her in her attempts to be an actress in Los Angeles. For her, the path to getting on television included years of acting classes, bad auditions, and drinks and dinners with various denizens of the town who claimed to be able to offer her help on her path but in reality only wanted to have sex with her. And, worse than all these things, her path included endless rejection from producers, agents, managers, and so on. Now, it seemed, things had changed. Her daughter might never have to endure any of the things she did in her attempts to become an actress. For her daughter it might all be as simple as filling out a two-page application. She envied her daughter and wondered how different things would have been in her own life if she had been born twenty-eight years after she actually was.
O n the ride home from the mall, Jim felt some anxiety. His wife had specifically told him to have the conversation about sex with their son before they returned. In preparation for this conversation, Jim had stopped at Walgreen’s on the way home from work two days before. He was more than familiar with aisle 12 of the Walgreen’s near his office. He had been purchasing condoms from the family planning section in that exact aisle ever since Danny was born and his wife, Tracey, decided not to return to her regiment of using oral birth control. But he found that walking into the family planning section of aisle 12 in Walgreen’s was difficult for him when his intent was to buy condoms for anyone other than himself, especially for his son. Far more difficult, however, was bringing a box of twelve Trojan latex condoms with spermicidal lubricant to the front register and thinking the entire time about the possibility of his son actually using them. He had such a high level of anxiety about the entire incident that he offered certain unsolicited information to the seventy-four-year old woman who checked him out. He said, “These aren’t for me.” When she said nothing in return, Jim said, “They’re for my son.” He knew the memory of the event would probably stay with him until he died.
In the car with Danny, Jim said, “Why don’t you open the glove box?”
Danny said, “What? Why?”
Jim said, “Just open it.”
Danny did as he was instructed. Inside the glove box, amid the clutter of receipts for oil changes, pens, napkins, Taco Bell mild sauce packets, and the owner’s manual for the car they were riding in, was a Walgreen’s bag.
Danny said, “Okay?”
Jim said, “Well, open the bag.”
Danny opened the Walgreen’s bag to find a box of twelve Trojan latex condoms with spermicidal lubricant. He said, “Uh . . .”
Jim said, “I’m sure you already know all about sex and how to do it and how to use condoms, so I’m just telling you to use those if, you know, if you and Brooke, you know . . .”
He looked at his son, who stared at him with what Jim interpreted to be a half-horrified, half-insulted expression.
Jim said, “I know this is weird and I’m probably the last person on the planet you want to have talking to you about this shit, but that’s the way it has to be. Would you rather be talking to your mom about this right now?”
Danny said, “No.”
Jim said, “Exactly, so just know that your mom and I don’t care if you and Brooke start, you know . . . I mean, we care. You should definitely not be doing it anytime soon or anything, and you should wait until you’re ready and all of the other crap I’m supposed to say here, but I know how it goes. I was young once. I had
As Dawn and Hannah made their way back out into the mall, Hannah said, “How cool would that be, to, like, actually be on a show?”
Dawn said, “Pretty cool.” She thought about how difficult things had been for her in her attempts to be an actress in Los Angeles. For her, the path to getting on television included years of acting classes, bad auditions, and drinks and dinners with various denizens of the town who claimed to be able to offer her help on her path but in reality only wanted to have sex with her. And, worse than all these things, her path included endless rejection from producers, agents, managers, and so on. Now, it seemed, things had changed. Her daughter might never have to endure any of the things she did in her attempts to become an actress. For her daughter it might all be as simple as filling out a two-page application. She envied her daughter and wondered how different things would have been in her own life if she had been born twenty-eight years after she actually was.
O n the ride home from the mall, Jim felt some anxiety. His wife had specifically told him to have the conversation about sex with their son before they returned. In preparation for this conversation, Jim had stopped at Walgreen’s on the way home from work two days before. He was more than familiar with aisle 12 of the Walgreen’s near his office. He had been purchasing condoms from the family planning section in that exact aisle ever since Danny was born and his wife, Tracey, decided not to return to her regiment of using oral birth control. But he found that walking into the family planning section of aisle 12 in Walgreen’s was difficult for him when his intent was to buy condoms for anyone other than himself, especially for his son. Far more difficult, however, was bringing a box of twelve Trojan latex condoms with spermicidal lubricant to the front register and thinking the entire time about the possibility of his son actually using them. He had such a high level of anxiety about the entire incident that he offered certain unsolicited information to the seventy-four-year old woman who checked him out. He said, “These aren’t for me.” When she said nothing in return, Jim said, “They’re for my son.” He knew the memory of the event would probably stay with him until he died.
In the car with Danny, Jim said, “Why don’t you open the glove box?”
Danny said, “What? Why?”
Jim said, “Just open it.”
Danny did as he was instructed. Inside the glove box, amid the clutter of receipts for oil changes, pens, napkins, Taco Bell mild sauce packets, and the owner’s manual for the car they were riding in, was a Walgreen’s bag.
Danny said, “Okay?”
Jim said, “Well, open the bag.”
Danny opened the Walgreen’s bag to find a box of twelve Trojan latex condoms with spermicidal lubricant. He said, “Uh . . .”
Jim said, “I’m sure you already know all about sex and how to do it and how to use condoms, so I’m just telling you to use those if, you know, if you and Brooke, you know . . .”
He looked at his son, who stared at him with what Jim interpreted to be a half-horrified, half-insulted expression.
Jim said, “I know this is weird and I’m probably the last person on the planet you want to have talking to you about this shit, but that’s the way it has to be. Would you rather be talking to your mom about this right now?”
Danny said, “No.”
Jim said, “Exactly, so just know that your mom and I don’t care if you and Brooke start, you know . . . I mean, we care. You should definitely not be doing it anytime soon or anything, and you should wait until you’re ready and all of the other crap I’m supposed to say here, but I know how it goes. I was young once. I had
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