EXTRAS NEEDED: BLACK SPRING BREAK 3. Male and female. 555-5555. Possible pay.
I practiced my pitch in my head as I dialed the number. Hi, my name is Sarah and I would like to be in your movie. No, that’s not good. Hi, my name is Sarah. I’m an actress and I want to be in your movie. Ugh. No, stupid. Crap. My name is Sarah, I’m calling about–Oh god, someone’s picking up!!!
“Yeah?” It was unclear if the person who answered was a man or woman.
“Hi, my name is Sarah and I’m calling about being an extra in your movie.” (Score! I sounded normal!)
“Oh yeah. Thanks for calling. Can you come tomorrow morning?”
“Ok. Sure! I’d love to! What do you want me to wear?”
“Bring some outfits, like a club outfit and a beach outfit, cause you know we’re at the beach but we’ll be filming in a hotel. Can I ask you something? Are you white? You sound white. Like a perky little white girl.”
“Okay, well we might have some lines for you to say tomorrow, is that cool?”
The next day I drove my 1987 Cutlass Cierra to Daytona Beach ready to begin my life as a movie star. Who says it takes 10 years to be an overnight success? Try one phone call bitches!
The trilogy that is Black Spring Break started in 1998. As you can see by these video covers, I was born to be in these movies.
A short synopsis of the first movie, taken from Amazon….
As all-american college football star day-run southboy and his friend rapper kenny flyy hit the sands in daytona beach for black spring break the biggest wildest party of the year every sports agent and gold digger in town wants a piece of him.
DON’T YOU WANT TO GO SEE THIS RIGHT NOW?!
Can we talk about spring break in Daytona for a minute? Since I grew up only an hour and a half away from those golden party shores, you better believe I hit the scene all four years of high school. I wanted to go so bad my freshman year, I lied to my parents and told them I was going to softball camp for the week. I wanted, nay, needed to know… was it really as crazy as MTV VJ Bill Bellamy said it was? Would I find myself partaking in one of those wet T-shirt contests or do a keg stand or stick my tongue down that cute college guy from Georgia’s throat? And then immediately turn and stick my tongue down his best friend’s throat? What would happen during this week of very adult fun?
Nothing. I left after the second day. Fifteen year old Sarah was not ready to handle Daytona’s debauchery. The next couple of years weren’t as traumatizing and I ended up having a pretty good, if tame, time. No college boys from Georgia, wet t-shirt contests, or keg stands. Just some off-key karaoke to I Love Rock N Roll, the Britney Spears version.
Daytona is pretty dead in February so when I got lost on the sidewalks of A1A, styling in my club outfit, the only person around to give me directions was a homeless man. “You should be in the movies.” He told me as I walked away. I wanted to squeal when he said that because what? That’s exactly what I’m about to do.
I met Shalomar in the lobby of a Ramada Inn and she thanked me for coming on such short notice. She handed me a page of dialogue. I would be playing Dumb White Girl #2. “What is this? Typecasting?” I joked. She laughed.
Shalomar took me up to the hotel room the production company was using for holding. I met my co-star, Dumb White Girl #1. She definitely was more of a Dumb White Girl #1 than Dumb White Girl #2. She was very blond and very booby and learned how to talk from Marilyn Monroe. She let me know immediately that she had two kids and if we didn’t start filming soon she was going to have to pay the babysitter extra. And this was not okay.
When Dumb White Girl #1 found out we wouldn’t be filming until at least six o’clock, she decided to “fuck this” and “pay her god damn babysitter”. She left and never returned.
Guess who got promoted to Dumb White Girl #1?!?!?!
We had to get another Dumb White Girl #2 but luckily, according to Shalomar, this hotel was full of them. We found one in the lobby who was on vacation with her parents to play opposite me.
Me and DWG#2 memorized our lines but before we could go act, Shalomar wanted us to help the strippers pick out their outfits. That’s right, strippers were now in the room getting dressed for their upcoming scene. At least, that’s what they told me. These strippers were the real deal. I knew they were the real deal because they arrived on a cloud of cheap body spray and glitter. They and their bags of ho-wear took over the two beds in the room.
“That’s a really flattering color on you.” I told the one who was wearing a peach sequined scarf. And nothing else.
“Are we going to film our scene soon?” DWG#2 asked. “I’m on vacation.”
“Oh yeah. We gonna film soon. But first we gonna go to Burger King! Ladies, let’s go get some Burger King!” The strippers got so excited and started talking to each other at decibel level that hurt my ears. Next thing I knew, I was getting into a van packed with strippers who kept saying they were going to show me some “culture”.
“Can’t wait.” I said and gave a thumbs up. Apparently this was hysterical. What other silly white person things could I do?
“Oooh, turn this up. This is my jam.” It was Juvenile’s classic hit, Back that Azz Up. Howls of laughter. I wasn’t joking. They turned it up and we pulled into Burger King with me throwing lyrics down as hard as I could. They were so impressed they bought me one of those small dessert pies. Shyeah!
With the cast and crew rolling into Burger King like they owned it or something, I started to get the sense that Black Spring Break*, in general, is a lot more out of control than MTV’s spring break. That’s why they have to make a movie about it. They can’t show this much titty on television.
Speaking of making a movie, is that what we’re doing? I’ve been here for 10 hours without hearing words like action and cut and the camera loves you, Sarah Walker.
“Okay, let’s go to the lobby and film your scene. Day-Run is ready.” My stomach did a little hippity hop. My moment had come.
The scene went like this. Day-Run (star of the movie) was hiding from his stalker, some crazy banshee of a woman. This woman asked us if we knew where Day-Run was. Cut to being dumb and white. I can’t remember the exact dialogue but there was a “joke” in there about O.J. and Nicole Simpson. On top of all this hootenanny, the stalker had a stalker herself, who ran around the hotel shirtless, asking everyone to touch his moobs.**
This is the cinema at its finest.
The first part of the scene, with us joking about Nicole, went well. The end of the scene was a little more… well, I don’t know what it was. Basically, the scene ended on the steps of the hotel with me and the other DWG each cupping a moob of the stalker’s stalker.
I honestly don’t remember how it got to that point. It wasn’t in the script. But I rolled with it and made sure to cradle his fleshy moob in my palm like a pro.
For my 11 hours of waiting, I ended up filming about a half hour of footage. I asked Shalomar when I would get paid. It was obvious by the way she scrambled for some paper in her purse that she wasn’t expecting to keep in touch. She took my address down on the back of a ripped envelope.”Yeah, ok. We’ll send you something in the mail, like 75 dollars maybe. Thanks so much for coming, girl!”
I have yet to be paid and this movie has never been released.
*Black Spring Break is not the spring break on MTV. It’s a whole separate week in Daytona, also known as Black College Reunion or BCR. It attracts 200 to 300,00 people annually.
** Moob= Man boob. In case you didn’t know. Try and use it in a sentence today.