It’s been five months with my managers and zero auditions. They got me one meeting with an on-camera commercial talent agency. They called me with my appointment time of 2 pm and said I was to meet “Stacey” at this talent agency in Hollywood. I had heard of them, nothing outstanding, but again, I was open and willing to try to get my feet back in. I put two hours worth of change in the meter along Sunset Boulevard, walked past Carney’s hamburger train and into the building. Mind you, I was 10 minutes early. When I walked in, the receptionist was eating ribs. Big, barbecue-slathered ribs, in a Styrofoam container with beans and mayonnaisey coleslaw. WHO eats ribs on their lunch break, while working? I was thoroughly amused by this. She kindly pointed at a sheet of paper with her BBQ-sauce-under-her-fingernail hands, and I looked at it. It was copy for a vitamin commercial. My first thought was: crap. I have to read for this Stacey?! My ego was yelling inside: “I am a genuine has-been actress, and you are making me read?!” Second thought: “Get over it, Tracy. You booked 17 national commercials your first year in the business. If anyone can sell Centrum vitamins for pre-menopausal women, it’s you.” I went to sit down. Five other women of all shapes and sizes were greeted by BBQ lady and the Centrum copy, as well. After the receptionist finished her rack of ribs, only THEN did she call someone to say I was here. It was now 2:10 pm. My appointment was at 2. Out came a lady who gave me a hug, said she was so happy to meet me … then explained that she was starving and was going to “run across the street to grab a bite, and would I mind waiting for her to get back?” Seriously. She should have had half of her receptionist’s lunch and kept my appointment on time. Never mind the hellacious traffic I was going to face driving back home. I smiled, “Of course. No problem.” Now it was 3 pm. I was pissed off at her, the BBQ lady, the pre-menopausal copy I’d already memorized and the traffic. She walked in from her special lunch, grabbed my arm and brought me back to her office. She proceeded to tell me that they’re just starting an adult division. They had only represented kids, and were now “breaking into” representation for adults. From this point forward all I heard was: “blah blah blah.” Why would I want to be with an agency that’s just starting an adult division? It’s hard enough to get actors in the door, but especially for a company that has never done it before. She wanted to rep me. She then brought me to meet Stacey. This is the Stacey that my managers originally arranged to meet with me. In walks a tall, handsome African-American man. Stacey didn’t have a clue who I was or that he even had an appointment with me. For all he knew, I was there to pick up his dry cleaning. I didn’t realize late-lunch lady wasn’t Stacey. I was so confused. I left walking past Carneys to my car seething that this was the BEST my mangers could do. I cried all the way over Laurel Canyon to the 101, to the 5 and home. Is it really this hard to get back in? I’ve got the chutzpah, the moxie, the drive … when is something going to give? I was quickly realizing the road back wasn’t even a road. I wasn’t on the road yet. I was in the desert with no roads, with no water, no boat, no oar, just like my manager said 20-plus years ago. I wasn’t giving up. I refused.