I'll Show You: Part Three

The last couple of days, I've been covering my last improv show. Where I left off, my own class had just finished a successful performance. I neglected to mention yesterday that we did not end the show. That was reserved for the level three class known as "The Barrel". That's what most of us in level two are gunning for, and so what they do we watch intently for that reason in addition to the primary reason that they are hilarious. As always, they did a fine job on this particular night. I especially enjoy watching people who have made it from classes I was attending. I see them too little sometimes as a result, but I am always glad for them.

That ended the show, but it's never the end of the night. We stayed there and stood around talking for a good long time. There was a lot of praise for our show, but I never would let that go unanswered by equally earnest and emphatic congratulations for the others who performed. I mean it when I speak kindly of my fellow performers, but it's also kind of deflecting the acclaim which makes me feel awkward and embarrassed sometimes. It's funny how a person can be affected by the very thing they strive for so vigorously. Perhaps it's a little something like a dog finally catching a car. That would be an awful calamity and not at all what the dog was thinking of when he galloped out the front door into the street.

After a show like that, you just have to go out afterward. After the previous show at that location, we went to a fast food chain I just can't endorse, so of course I'm not going to name them. I and a friend from my own class immediately began lobbying and agitating for a different place, and we won out basically. Unfortunately, this was a night where most people weren't up for going out, and some may have gone for something else. In the end, a mere six of us sat in that restaurant with burgers, fries and drinks talking. It was a good six, however. You just have to do that victory lap when you're still riding high like that. I knew I'd sag a little emotionally once I was alone, though this time less than after any previous show. I was self-confident this time. After parting ways at the burger place, I was faced with the task of getting home.

The immediately aforementioned friend drove me back as far as the subway station at his place. I took that to Hollywood, getting on a bus there which actually took me in the wrong direction but was necessary anyway. It let me off where I could get a bus which took me right by my place (or at least the place I'm staying momentarily.). The events of the day turned in my head, but with gladness and not depression or regret. The quiet and stillness of night on the street sometimes take me in that direction, but this was positive reflection. As I ventured into the residential neighborhood, a car slowly pulled up. I thought little enough of it until I faintly recognized it and definitely recognized the face and voice which came from it. It was one of my present roommates, and she drove me the few hundred yards which remained. We chatted a bit, and she sensibly went to bed. I on the other hand have never been accused of being sensible, or at least have never had such accusations stick. I caught on in things at my computer and ended the day finishing a Miss Marple murder mystery novel before drifting off.

Tomorrow: Something Else!