Mind the Gap

The Voice really didn’t think much about the recording sessions at the studio. To her, it was just another job. The agent called and had her send over her voice over demo reel. She had some moderate success as an actor, there were supporting roles in failed pilots, a detective for a few seasons on a Law & Order knock-off, and a couple of non-speaking roles in actual Hollywood movies. As she got older, even these bit parts dried up, there were less calls for auditions, and her agent subtly - or not so subtly - started directing her into voice work. This led to commercials, documentaries, and even animated programs. In a way, her voice led her to more creative, interesting and satisfying projects.

Next stop: Spadina Station.

Still, she gave up a lot of things to be an actor. Or, at least, gave up on a lot of things that other people pursued in their 20s and 30s. Her small successes satiated her for a time, but after a while she just wanted more. There comes a moment in every actor’s life where they have to come to terms with and sometimes redefine success. She stayed in the city after all her friends had been gone a long time. She lived in a tiny, but comfortable apartment. She had everything she wanted, but something was always missing.

Doors will open on the right.

So when she got the job to be the new voice of the public transit system, she didn’t think much of it. A job is a job. The recording sessions were in a dark studio with faceless engineers and they just went through the script line-by-line with minimal or really no direction at all.

Please stand clear of the doors. The doors are now closing.

She was told to be stern in her presentation, but not too stern. Have emotion in the voice, but not too much emotion. She needed to sound firm, yet helpful. Instructive and trusting. They went through the general announcements and then every station one-by-one. The Voice prided herself in not needing additional takes unless requested by the director. She liked to be as low maintenance as possible. For the entire three days of recording, no one asked for a second take of anything. She finished up, and left the recording studio without thinking about this job again. A job is a job.

At this stop, change to line two.

The first time it happened was many months later. The Voice was in a coffee shop and when she told the barista her order, she got the strangest look. The barista squinted, grasping at recognition, but ultimately not getting anywhere. This started occurring everywhere she had to talk: at the bank, in elevators, at grocery stores. She didn’t know how to react - what do you do if every time you speak, even to complete strangers, it elicits such a strong sense of confusion?

It wasn’t until her car was getting serviced and she had to take the subway to an audition when she figured it out. At first, The Voice thought she was having an out of body experience. Or perhaps she was having a stroke or a heart attack when the announcement said:

Please stand clear of the doors.

And it was her voice, but not just her professional voice, it sounded like the voice inside her head. The one inside of us all, our thinking voice. And she remembered all those months ago those three days of recording sessions and forgetting them as soon as she wrapped.

Arriving at St. George Station.

As the subway approached the station, she watched the other people on the train. She looked for any reaction or connection with others. Some got off the train when the doors opened, some got on the train. The Voice rode the subway all the way to the end of the line. She completely forgot about where she was supposed to be going. She was engrossed in her own performance. To her, behind the station names and general instructions, there was the weight of everything that didn’t work out in her life. The loneliness she often felt living in this city. The lack of friends as she got older and how even her theatre school friends gave up their dreams and moved to small towns to raise large families. The frustration of her love life, or lack of love life, and how men just bored her lately. She thought about how small and insignificant she often felt and that no one listened to her. But now, for years to come, thousands, hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of people will listen to her, be guided by her, informed by her.

She rode the subway for the rest of the night. It was the first time she was proud of her performance. She stayed until the trains stopped running for the night. Until security told her to leave. And as The Voice walked home, she marvelled at what she believed to be the best performance of her life.