Hannah Poitras is ashamed to perform in this community theatre production of Sweet Bird Of Youth. Prior to landing her role, she tanked a number of actually worthwhile auditions due to her inconvenient shortage of anti-depressants.
Before ditching her family, friends, and a happy lifestyle for the cramped stages of Los Angeles, Hannah grew up in the suburbs of Dayton, Ohio. Being unfit for athletics, she stuffed her rosy cheeks full of bologna sandwiches and watched an excessive amount of movies. This love of cinema blossomed into an unhealthy obsession that was never snuffed out by a caring parental figure.
Hannah would like to thank her family for all their sarcastic support. Criticizing the value of acting behind her back has protected her from realizing the inconsequentiality of her aspirations. Being somewhat supportive didn’t propel her to dive wholeheartedly into theatre training. Thus, she has been able to meagerly survive as a full-time receptionist and part-time forgettable performer.
Acting teachers all across the country fell in love with Hannah’s misconception that talent can be purchased. They milked her bank account for every nickel she had. This culminated with a bachelor’s degree in acting from an elite community college in a Mid-Atlantic state. Her credit isn’t strong enough for taking out the loans necessary to pursue a master’s degree at this time.
Now approaching the age of forty, Ms. Poitras is on the brink of giving up acting forever. The constant barrage of wedding photos and baby portraits online are eating away at her sanity. In a desperate attempt to rescue herself from obscurity, she spends most evenings scouring the Internet for lonely film producers on dating websites. “BananaGirl1972” has yet to meet a suitor. Her thinning hair is all too visible in her profile picture, as well as the cheap headshot on the left.
This large non-speaking role arrived at Hannah’s doorstep out of both pity and the previous actress’s abandonment of such an impossible career. Ms. Poitras believes she got this part due to writing on her résumé, “Past accolades speak louder than present abilities.” She should have been nominated for the 2004 “Best Offstage Personality Award” and the “Best Eye Contact Onstage Award” at the Jacksonville Theatre Company. In her humble opinion, politics are to blame, not her lack of emotional range. This snub-job was one of the greatest injustices of the modern era.
Hannah would like to thank her golden retriever, Harley Masterson, for his willingness to listen after all those days where she wants to ignite the Hollywood sign in flames. The silly mutt knows she wouldn’t really snort the embers and stab every last casting director in their black hearts.
All her “friends” claim they would love to see her perform but are too busy “raising families” to see a Sunday night show at 10 PM. Ms. Poitras considers them all petty narcissists who need to grow up.
After the show, Hannah will make an appearance in the parking lot. There she will be sobbing loudly and cursing out any patrons that make eye contact with her. It is their fault that she feels unfulfilled. As the last driver refuses to give her a ride, she will eat a Cliff Bar for dinner and contemplate the meaning of life.