They asked us to keep the details confidential, but I don’t think it's any breach that the auditions involved, well, acting like zombies, first as a group, and then individually. And though I'd been practicing my amble for years (Look straight ahead, but dead-eyed! Drag your feet, but not too much! Make gargling sounds while gnawing your teeth!), it quickly became clear who the pros were and who was, like me, a tourist in the audition circuit.
The rockabilly woman looked like she was trying to be a zombie, while barista girl was a zombie. All of a sudden, her body language changed; her legs drooped; her arms moved effortlessly. Bearded Sons of Anarchy man’s amble was practiced, pronounced, and, frankly, not good; painted guy, however, meandered in a way that suggested that, yes, his hunger for your neck was real and merciless and true. And black mohawk guy? One glance and you knew he meant business, and his business was eating human flesh, and holy hell, you better grab a nail-abetted baseball bat, because if not, your business and his business would soon be one.