#SOBLESSED: the Annoying Actor Friend's Guide to Werking in Show Business (11 page)

The Time:
The
year is broken down into quarters. January – March. April – June.
July – September. October – December. There are Basic Base Periods and
Alternative Base Periods. Your Basic Base Period is the first four of the last
five quarters
.
The most recent quarter is not in your Basic Base Period.
If your show just closed and you want to use those earnings, you can
request an Alternative Base Period that considers the four most recent
quarters. A show that ended in August of 2013 would yield a Basic Base Period
of April 2012 – March 2013, and an Alternative Base Period of July 2012
– June 2013. Have you started eating your hair yet? Because we’re just
getting started…

You must have been employed in two different calendar
quarters to qualify, and Unemployment will use the earnings from your highest
quarter to decide the amount of your weekly benefits. One job is all you need,
as long as it happened in two
separate quarters
. A Broadway gig over
three months will do the trick. Or, you can collect a couple throughout the
year. If you did a guest spot on
Smash
in Quarter 1 (January –
March) and then worked at North Shore Music Theatre in Quarter 3 (July –
September), and your job ended in August, you can file an Unemployment claim
– but you have to wait until the beginning of Quarter 4 (October 1
^st
)
#FML. And you thought
booking
the job was the hard part?

The Amount:
As
of the date of this book’s publication, the maximum benefits you can earn from
the state of New York are $405 a week, for twenty-six weeks. That amount of
cash is reminiscent of when you worked in dinner theatre, but without the threat
of an octogenarian literally loosing their shit after your eleven o’clock
number. To qualify for the maximum, the wages from your highest quarters
divided by twenty-six (the amount of weeks you can claim) must average out to
$405 or above. For example, say you booked the fall production at Paper Mill
Playhouse in New Jersey. Their COST (Council of Stock Theatres) contract pays a
minimum of $800 a week. Rehearsals begin in October, and the show runs through
the end of the year. The entire job consists of ten weeks of work, but they are
all within Quarter 4. Uh-oh. That’s only one quarter and you need
two
. Hopefully
you worked in another quarter within your base period, because otherwise you’re
screwed. [SIDEBAR: In Paper Mill’s defense, they also produce productions that
overlap into two quarters – but in doing so, the overall income you
earned on the job is split. This leaves you fairly destitute, with a weekly Unemployment
insurance benefit of like $47. Is there some sort of conspiracy going on
between Paper Mill Playhouse and the state of New Jersey, where Chris Christie
is guaranteed unlimited Turkey Gobblers from the Millburn Delicatessen, in
exchange for MAKING IT DAMN NEAR IMPOSSIBLE TO EARN THE NEW JERSEY MAXIMUM OF
$600?! (SIDEBAR WITHIN SIDEBAR: This is typically the case with all regional
gigs ten weeks or under. I don’t know what Chris Christie and sandwiches could
possible have to do with the scheduling of a regional theatre’s season –
I was just hungry.)]

I digress… Let’s pretend you also did a workshop
during the month of March for
The House Bunny: the musical
at $631 a
week. Bravo. You worked in two quarters. Since the $8,000 from Paper Mill
Playhouse is in the higher quarter, it will be divided by twenty-six weeks,
equaling an average Unemployment benefit of exactly $307.69 a week. Balls. To
qualify for the maximum, you need to have made at least $10,530. I suggest
finding another job that works around show schedules (LOL!). Let’s pretend you book
something that pays $3,000 and shoots on your day off. Don’t ask me what. Make
it up. Commercial, print ad, soft-core porn – I don’t give a shit. If you
think nobody is ever lucky enough to book two lucrative jobs that magically
find a method to work around each other, then you obviously haven’t met some of
my friends.

Now that you have earned $11,000 in a single quarter,
you can take that number and divide it by twenty-six. #Boom: $423. You’ve
officially qualified for the maximum benefits of $405 a week for twenty-six
weeks, and it only took you a shit-ton of patience, the scientific calculator
option on your smartphone, and a degree from MIT. If you thought that finding a
job that paid enough to qualify for maximum benefits was hard enough, then just
wait until you get to file your claim.

Opening Your Unemployment Claim

According to the New York State Department of Labor
(NYSDOL) website, “it is against federal and state law to discriminate based on
race, religion, gender, marital status, age, disability, or political
affiliation,” but apparently not against people capable of common sense. Even if
you follow their directions on how to file a claim with painstaking accuracy,
it will most likely be for naught. Once you accept this fact, and come to terms
with the reality that filing your claim could take anywhere from a few simple
hours (if you’re lucky), to weeks of soul-sucking frustration (if you’re me),
you’ll be a much happier person. Moving forward, I want you to expect the worst,
but allow yourself to be pleasantly surprised. That’s kind of my thought
process whenever I attend a Broadway show.

Near the end of your production’s run, someone (usually
from company management) will provide you with the company’s EIN (Employer I.D.
Number), which is also known as a Federal Tax Identification Number. You are
now ready to open your claim on the NYSDOL website! It’s so easy! All you have
to do is log in, create your Government I.D., follow all the instructions, and
you’ll be rolling in four hundred and five George Washingtons faster than a
Michigan alum can get everything they’ve ever wanted, right? WRONG. Just when
you think your claim has successfully been filed online, you read the dreaded
words, “Please call us to complete your claim.” That’s when a process worse
than burning in the fiery pits of hell, or waiting in a student rush line,
begins.

Getting a hold of an actual person from Unemployment
on the phone is sort of like playing a reverse game of Russian Roulette, where
only one chamber is empty, and you’re stuck spending an afternoon repetitively blowing
your brains out. Allow me to explain in detail what an average telephone
relationship with the New York State Department of Labor is like…

The following dramatization is based on true events
and could easily happen to you…

You awake one cheery morning, feeling erroneously
optimistic about your career, and twenty-six beautiful weeks of Funemployment.
You’ve already filled out the proper online application to open a claim, so you
proceed to complete the process over the phone as instructed. After dialing the
number, you listen to a thirty-second speech from an automated lady who explains
that you first need to log online to open your claim and you’re like, “Shut the
fuck up you stupid bitch, I already did that and then you told me I needed to
call to finish it.” My, how quickly a mood can change when faced with conflict
involving one’s income.

You take a deep breath, and continue listening to a series
of prompts asking various questions that require you to press numerous buttons
for what seems like an eternity – but in actuality is probably only
twelve minutes. (HINT: Write down all the numbers you just pressed in that
exact order. In the future, it will cut down your time dealing with the prompts
by about five minutes. You’ll value that shortcut, because you’re going to get
disconnected. A lot.)

After a rather arduous listening process, you are told
that to complete your claim you need to call back on a specific day of the week
that coincides with the spelling of your last name. Last names beginning with
an A – G on Monday, H – N on Tuesday, and O – Z on Wednesday.
Names beginning with a consonant, but only have one vowel, must call on Thursday
between 10:00 a.m. and 12:42 p.m. People who have to use a middle initial in
their Equity Name must complete their claim every other Friday. Etc. Etc. Etc. You
look at a calendar, because you’re on Funemployment – and when has anyone
on Funemployment ever known what day it is? Your heart sinks. It’s Tuesday, and
your allotted day is Monday. You will now be forced to wait an extra week
without money.

The long week ticks by, while you try to ignore the
absence of a paycheck by binge watching the latest in-vogue Netflix series.
Monday arrives. You open your claim, and you’re so bloody excited that it seems
like a big #blessed rainbow is about to come beaming out your butt – but
not so fast, George Banks! You still have to sit through the mandatory “one week
waiting period.” Two weeks. No money.

When Sunday-NO-Funday (because now you’re broke) finally
rolls around again, you’re ecstatic because you’ve made it through two weeks
without money, whilst surviving on PB & J and the happy hour at McCormick
& Schmick’s. You go to file online, but (plot twist!) something is wrong
with your claim, and you need to call Unemployment to sort it out. Aren’t you
glad you kept those automated prompt numbers written down? Time to put them to
good use. Honestly, that little piece of paper has been more helpful in my
career as an actor than the semester in college that I spent annotating
Coriolanus
.

Monday morning, armed with the prompt list you
constructed last week, you take a deep breath, pick up your phone, and call Unemployment
– whose contact information has been begrudgingly added to your
“favorites” list without a drop of irony gone unnoticed. You swiftly dial your
way through the switchboard catacombs to a level where you might be #blessed by
the presence of an actual human being who can assist you with your claim. Now,
all you need to do is correctly answer the three riddles given to you by the
minotaur that guards the Narnia closet hidden within the Coca-Cola refrigerator
at the Hot & Crusty in Penn Station, and you’re well on your way.

Once you find an option to link you to a live representative,
one of the following three possible incidents will occur:

 POSSIBILITY #1: An automated voice will
explain, “We are experiencing an abnormally high volume of calls. Please call back
later. And also, go fuck yourself.” CLICK. GAME OVER. RESET.

POSSIBILITY #2: An automated voice will explain, “We
are experiencing an abnormally high volume of calls. All of our representatives
are busy today. We can schedule you an appointment for a callback.”

This option is hysterical, because it’s at that
moment when you realize you even need a “callback” for Unemployment. So, you select
the “callback option” and they say, “The soonest we can schedule you an
appointment is Thursday.”

But you’re like, “It’s Monday. How can Unemployment
be booked solid until Thursday? Is it 2008? Fine. I’ll wait until Thursday.”

Next, the computer asks you to select the time to
call you back, and you say, “How about ten in the morning?”

“We’re sorry. That timeslot is full.”

“Eleven?”

“We’re sorry. That timeslot is full.”

“Noon?”

“You’ve exceeded your number of options today.
Goodbye.” CLICK.

After this happens, I suggest scheduling some extra
time in your week to take your iPhone to the Apple Store, so they can fix the
cracked screen caused from being Frisbee tossed across a studio apartment. Even
when you finally do get to schedule a callback time for later in the week, take
a long look at the alcoholic beverage you undoubtedly poured during this
process, and accept the fact that the glass is half empty, because this is all
in vain. What are the odds they’re actually going to call you back on your
scheduled day?

Still, when it comes to the measly weekly penance the
government gives us to spend hours at Pearl Studios reassessing our life
choices, we’re all just Charity Hope Valentine, and the New York State
Department of Labor is some slob sweating gin and throwing dimes at us while we
taxi dance, believing our phone call will actually come – because there’s
gotta be something better than this.

Thursday morning arrives. You wake up extra early (like
before noon) and you wait by that phone. At this point you’ve gone three weeks without
money and you’re like, “I’m not gonna miss this shit!”

An hour passes. Two. Three. It’s now six o’clock, they
close at seven, and this call is eight hours late. So, you say #fuckit and call
them back to start the entire grueling process all over again.

Listen. If Unemployment offers to call you back on a
different day, you will never get your callback. Broadway will call. Your pilot
will get picked up. Your ex-significant other will realize the error of their
ways, and come crawling back to you. But Unemployment is
never going to call
you back.

POSSIBILITY #3: Winning the lottery!
This is
the option in the demented game of Unemployment Russian Roulette where you hear
the click of an empty chamber, and not the click of the other line hanging up
on you. You’ve won the Power Ball, folks. Savor it when you hear the words, “We
are experiencing an abnormally high volume of calls. You can either
wait on
the line for the next available representative, or we can call you back when
it’s your turn
.”

Now, you’re probably thinking, “This can’t possibly
be a good thing, right? I could be on hold for hours, or worse, relinquish my
spot in line under the foolish hopes they might call me, thus placing me right
back at the start!”