I'm sorry, he's in a meeting...

Proper jobs do get in the way of doing fun stuff eh, readers. Having spent a day up that London filling in forms and having my photo taken for the new casting book at the agency I'm with, I have a renewed vigour with which to start chasing those extras roles following a fallow three month period in which I had to turn down two offers (because of proper work, godamit) and actually did no extras-ing at all.

Anyway, back to November; with this being my first time proper on an agency's books, I'm not sure what to wear for the photoshoot, so I take a selection of clothes with the intention of being able to discuss my 'look' at the shoot. Well, I want to maximise my chances of getting some work, and also try and got something other than Victorian dramas. Having been told that my appointment was at 3.00pm, and that I should allow an hour at least, I assume that this will be a particularly thorough interview and question session to assess my suitability for a number of roles in the near future. Er, no.

I arrive at ten to three, get buzzed in to the corridor, and join the queue of at least twenty people who, it also seems, have three o'clock appointments. I'm given a clipboard with a three page form on it, in which I get the chance to expand on my experience, appearance, skills and which costumes I have at home. How many of you have a paramedics outfit at home? no? A greek orthadox priest's robes? A clown outfit? hmmm? I manage to tick about three of the boxes (I do happen to have a crash helmet and bike leathers, a business suit and, at a stretch, a gym kit. well, some shorts, anyway) and fill in some skills, hair colour and feel pleased with my 'work-to-date' list - until I glance over at the girl sitting next to me, who seems to be filling in a lot me boxes than I am. A bloke comes and sits next to me and says hello. After a moment of flicking through my brain to place him, I realise that he was on the last set that I'd been on, and we'd chatted amiably about American Politics, music and how fit all the ladies had looked in thier outfits. We joked about not recognising each other out of costume, and then he filled in his form, again ticking a lot more boxes than I had.

Finally, I got called through to the second room. Dotted around the parimeter of the room are a number of skinny and trendy young people, sitting in front of iMacs and brandishing measuring tapes. I get called over by a young lady who checks my form, inputs it all into a form and then takes all my measurements - asking me my waist size, and getting me to do my own inside leg. We check boxes, discuss my skills (the order in which they appear on the form is important, apparently) and then she gives me a strip of paper with a number on it and tells me to go through to the next room.

It's the photography room. The guy with the camera tells me to put my bag over there, stand on the X on the floor, and hold my number up. He takes a couple of pics, tells me that's good and I can put the paper down now. Just as I'm about to ask him which outfit I should consider, he's pointing the camera at me again and tells me to turn slightly to the left. He takes about six shots, tells me that's great and could I leave by that door over there. As I leave the building, I look at my watch. It's five past four. A couple of days later I get an email telling me I have been accepted, and my profile will appear in the 2007 book. I can't wait to see the picture...

A few weeks later, getting near christmas, I get back to my desk having been in a meeting for two hours to see that I have a missed call on my mobile. I check the answerphone to find a message from the agency asking if I'm available for two days the week inbetween christmas and new year. I call back to say yes, feeling quite excited about getting back on a set again, but alas, I'm too late and they've found someone else. I ask what I've missed out on, and the agent tells me that it's a movie set in Victorian London and the part is a 'walk on' (meaning that you're not just part of a crowd in the background). She tells me the name of the movie and I look it up online. The star of the movie? Only Daniel Craig.

I must take my phone to meetings from now on.