Post-Mortem

Got a call the other day. Turns out the plays are cancelled.

One thing about flying by the seat of your pants is while it can be a thrill, every once in a while your pants rip and you fall and you wind up bruised and pantsless.

Now what the fuck does that have to do with theater? Very often the most fun to be had is when you don't fucking know how the hell you're going to put the show up. I was once part of a company of 6 that cut, rewrote, memorized and performed Macbeth in two days. Because there were crucial characters that simply weren't there with us, some scenes had to be replaced with in-character narration. I had to do three such scenes. I only bothered to write for one of them, and that was because it was a two part narration. I took the stage twice not knowing what the fuck I was going to say, and no one was any the wiser. It was exhilarating.

We ended up getting rave reviews from the audience. Of course, it could have very easily gone to shit. But when you are a group of people who work well together, who have the skill and have the spirit, the possibilities may not be infinite, but nonetheless great things can be done. It may sound trite to say this, but it can be magical. But there needs to be some ground to stand on

Things were looking pretty touch and go from a performance aspect with these plays. But I wasn't worried, because I have no compunctions about letting it come together on opening night. But there were no props made. There was no set design. There was no tech. THERE WAS NO FUCKING VENUE. So it still could have flopped, but what I'm trying to get across was that it was never given half a chance. And that is all manner of frustrating, as I'm sure one could imagine

That all having been said I have a story to tell. I believe I've made it clear how this play ended. Basically everyone kisses each other. Which means that girls had to kiss girls and guys... well there were only two of us, but you get the idea.

We decided at the first rehearsal that we wouldn't rehearse the kissing scene for two weeks. And for those two weeks there were all sorts of jokes about it. The guy whom I was to be kissing, however, was saying lots of things to which one could easily have replied "methinks the lady doth protest too much." I didn't say that, sensing that a better oppertunity would arise.

And oh holy shit did it

So anyways, when the time came to rehearse the kissing, the ladies insisted that the guys go first (in what was no doubt a forward-thinking feminist rejection of chivalry).
On the first "run-through,"the guy "accidentally-because-that-is

-my-automatic-reflex-whenever-I-kiss-anyone-I-swear" slipped me the tongue.

Which as it turns out is how I learned that a Freudian Slip (yes I understand that Freud was far too fond of dicks and moms to be completely taken seriously but this is one thing of his it seems is accurate) need not be verbal. Of course it was still a slip of the tongue in this case, but it need not be that either.

I stonewalled him and didn't react at all in the way one would expect. Just a "Dude. you put your tongue in my mouth. How come?"

And he was on the floor in he fetal position, cringing and shouting that it was unintentional and I say, "man, I don't think you're fully appreciating this. How else were you going to learn that about yourself"

He once again assured everyone that he didn't enjoy it, so I shot back, "You were desperate not to enjoy it. I bet that's why you didn't shave this morning, motherfucker."

I can be very cruel when someone has such an insecurity.

Was that it? I think it may have been. I'll catch you all laters.