Laughing And Eating And Singing And Playing And Smoking: Part One

Yesterday was another which, in my naivete, seemed destined to be spent alone in tranquility with a movie. I had laid down on my bed and was watching Howard Hughes' "The Outlaw, growing impatient for the first appearance of Jane Russell. It never occurs to me until it happens that someone who knows me might reach into my solitude and pluck me out for any reason. Thus it is always a very pleasant but jarring surprise, as it was on this occasion, which shall unfold in three parts.

A text from a friend came through to my phone, and seemed to have been sent to numerous people. It advised that someone I know had two extra tickets to a show, which I understood to be improv comedy from the context. I gently inquired about it, at first just curious about a show I wasn't aware of. When something like that comes along at the last minute and a ride seems unlikely, I more or less must write it off as impractical for me to manage. This one was different, as I found the show was taking place in a perfectly ideal place for me to get to at that hour.

Luckily, I had gotten ready to face the day first thing that morning, and so I was dressed and prepared. With the knowledge that the show was within reach in terms of both transportation and cost, I rushed out to catch the bus. For a moment, I worried over getting to the theater to get the ticket from my friend, but found that I would be there in plenty of time. I chatted it up with my numerous friends who also came, and I obtained my ticket with no difficulty. Inside we went to take our seats.

It's a small, humble theater whose ambitions are probably helped none by being named after Andy Dick. Anyway, we got in there and did some more talking, while some odd cookies of unknown provenance made the rounds. A friend commented that they tasted as if they contained meat. I don't believe we ever confirmed or denied that, nor did we find out who the baker was. I got a bit of chocolate on my jeans, but it appears as if the stain will not constitute an effective death sentence even given my ineptitude in the laundry room. It was just about then that the show got going.

Tomorrow: The show itself!