The Weather

The other day, I had one of my improv classes, as I do every week. I had a particular scene that developed in a rather interesting way. Without getting bogged down in the details of how this sort of improv works, I'll just say that I was playing a villain set against a populist hero in a manner designed to ape the "Braveheart" type of story. There I was, peering out at the peons from the window of my castle, when it happened.

I reasoned that a suitable demonstration of my derision for the pathetic class of poor villagers in this story would be to spit upon them from up high. I made that I was opening the window, and I puckered up as though I was spitting. In improv, you pretend to do things like disrobe or spit. Actually doing something is commonly impracticable and when you do one thing for real, it starts to look weird that you don't do the other things for real.

Well, purely by accident I spit for real. It got quite a reaction, and I must confess that I momentarily broke character. I did not break the scene, which endured the mishap to end of its own accord, but it was touch and go as half the class marveled at my revolting act. Some were uncertain as to whether I'd really done it, and others helpfully pointed out just where it had landed on the carpet. A kindhearted friend and classmate cleaned up the small mess, and that seemed to stem the trouble.

Such things happen in the course of performance classes and performances themselves. This was hardly the first time an incident happened that went beyond intention (and acceptable standards). Fortunately, there was no more than good-natured ridicule which will subside as the event is forgotten. Even if it weren't forgotten, it's just as well that the reputation of a performer such as myself be leavened with such a tale. Either way, it happened.