"Yes, and...": The Story of How I Faked My Way Into Being Friends With Some Really Cool People
As many of you know, I am a significant member of my local improv troupe, the Seaside Jesters. (Go click on the link to like our Facebook page!!!) This is my third semester being a part of it, and my first semester finally performing.
The road to get to here was long, and I made lots of fantastically amazing friends along the way. It's also one of my favorite stories to tell, so here we are.
It all started last Fall semester. I was working late one Wednesday evening in the Reading Writing Center, where I tutor students on the papers they write for class. I wasn't alone, I had Peter and Melly and Adam (yes, that Adam) keeping me company. Somehow the subject of dating and relationships came up (Peter and Melly were recently engaged) and one thing led to another and I found myself in the perfect situation to ask Adam out on a date.
So I did. (Ladies, note. Adam is amenable to being asked out on dates. Go for it.) Adam, as was his custom, agreed, and we set a date for two weeks in the future.
Two weeks came around, and I found myself lacking in date ideas, so I asked Adam if he had any, and he didn't. He also asked if we could postpone our date, as he was leaving for Utah the next week and had a lot of packing to do. I was slightly confused, but we decided we would have our date the week after his trip to Utah.
The Utah trip came and went, and once again, our date time rolled around, so I texted him asking if he was excited/ready for our date in a few days. He replied, saying he was a terrible person, and very busy, and asked if we could move our date back one more week to the next Friday. It would be all planned out, he said, and it would be really fun.
I was having several suspicions about whether or not I would actually get my date with Adam, but I agreed. (What else could I do?) I asked him what he was planning.
He said we would be going to watch an improv show.
I was so down for that. It completely made up for the past weeks spent not going on a date and continually canceling. I hadn't done any drama-related stuff since my junior year in high school and a brief stint as a costumer the summer before. But I had always loved me some improv.
Our date night finally rolled around and no cancellation occurred. We went over to the building where the improv show was being held, and after hanging around (and discovering a couple of my friends were already actually in the show performing) for a bit, the show finally got started.
It was beautiful. I hadn't laughed so hard in a long time, and I was feeling really, really happy. Close to the end of the show, however, there was a game where they called for volunteers. My hand shot up like toast out of a toaster. One of my friends (thanks, Ben) saw me from the other side of the room and started chanting my name. I was asked to come up and play.
The game was called " Big, Bigger, Biggest" and the object was to replay a scene three times, making it bigger each time. There were two teams, each trying to outdo one another. The scene in question was the kidnapping of a little old French lady.
I could totally do that. In my senior year, I went to a Youth Conference and my group was the "French" group. I was famous throughout the stake for having an almost believable French accent. I could totally and completely fake French words and an accent while being carried around by four boys. I was so ready.
The first scene went normally well, with all of us onstage getting laughs while I was "knocked out" and dragged around on a carpet. Then it was time for the replay by the other team. The ante was upped slightly by the addition of another French lady to be kidnapped. We were both snatched and dragged around till the scene was called.
Then the third and last playing of the scene. I was ready. This was gonna be so great. I was mentally going through all the French I knew in my head, ready to scream it out as the two boys attempted to kidnap me.
As I was kidnapped for the third and final time that night, I opened my mouth to scold the boys for kidnapping such a helpless old woman when I realized the words I was speaking were not my faked French... but Spanish.
In all the excitement of getting picked up and carried away I fell back on the only not-English language I have some degree of familiarity with... Spanish.
The audience freaked out. I freaked out.
The actors were good with it though (thank you Dax and Ben), hanging a lantern on it and promptly knocking me out and dragging me across the floor (yeah, I got several carpet burns that evening). We ended the scene amidst great laughter and cheers. I was once again famous, the girl who screamed random Spanish during that improv show. This random guy came up to me afterwards and said I did great, that he never laughed so hard than during that part. He'd just come back from a mission in Argentina, and me speaking in Spanish... he loved it so much (thanks Cameron).
So, the show ended, and I was thanked profusely by all the actors for coming and participating. Adam and I left with another couple to go to Taco Bell and eat and hang out... nothing further happened with the two of us date-wise, but I knew in my heart that when the next improv show came around, I would be there. I had fallen in love in that brightly lit room late at night, laughing my head off. No one was going to separate me and my improv viewing.
~
This is the end of part 1 of this story. There will be other parts (this is a long, detailed story that deserves all the minute attention) and I'll add links here when I post them. Keep an eye out for more laughter, shenanigans, and injuries as I slowly begin to make friends with the actors and consider my own role.
Part 2 is now here.
Part 3 is now here.
Part 4 is now here.
The road to get to here was long, and I made lots of fantastically amazing friends along the way. It's also one of my favorite stories to tell, so here we are.
It all started last Fall semester. I was working late one Wednesday evening in the Reading Writing Center, where I tutor students on the papers they write for class. I wasn't alone, I had Peter and Melly and Adam (yes, that Adam) keeping me company. Somehow the subject of dating and relationships came up (Peter and Melly were recently engaged) and one thing led to another and I found myself in the perfect situation to ask Adam out on a date.
So I did. (Ladies, note. Adam is amenable to being asked out on dates. Go for it.) Adam, as was his custom, agreed, and we set a date for two weeks in the future.
Two weeks came around, and I found myself lacking in date ideas, so I asked Adam if he had any, and he didn't. He also asked if we could postpone our date, as he was leaving for Utah the next week and had a lot of packing to do. I was slightly confused, but we decided we would have our date the week after his trip to Utah.
The Utah trip came and went, and once again, our date time rolled around, so I texted him asking if he was excited/ready for our date in a few days. He replied, saying he was a terrible person, and very busy, and asked if we could move our date back one more week to the next Friday. It would be all planned out, he said, and it would be really fun.
I was having several suspicions about whether or not I would actually get my date with Adam, but I agreed. (What else could I do?) I asked him what he was planning.
He said we would be going to watch an improv show.
I was so down for that. It completely made up for the past weeks spent not going on a date and continually canceling. I hadn't done any drama-related stuff since my junior year in high school and a brief stint as a costumer the summer before. But I had always loved me some improv.
Our date night finally rolled around and no cancellation occurred. We went over to the building where the improv show was being held, and after hanging around (and discovering a couple of my friends were already actually in the show performing) for a bit, the show finally got started.
It was beautiful. I hadn't laughed so hard in a long time, and I was feeling really, really happy. Close to the end of the show, however, there was a game where they called for volunteers. My hand shot up like toast out of a toaster. One of my friends (thanks, Ben) saw me from the other side of the room and started chanting my name. I was asked to come up and play.
The game was called " Big, Bigger, Biggest" and the object was to replay a scene three times, making it bigger each time. There were two teams, each trying to outdo one another. The scene in question was the kidnapping of a little old French lady.
I could totally do that. In my senior year, I went to a Youth Conference and my group was the "French" group. I was famous throughout the stake for having an almost believable French accent. I could totally and completely fake French words and an accent while being carried around by four boys. I was so ready.
The first scene went normally well, with all of us onstage getting laughs while I was "knocked out" and dragged around on a carpet. Then it was time for the replay by the other team. The ante was upped slightly by the addition of another French lady to be kidnapped. We were both snatched and dragged around till the scene was called.
Then the third and last playing of the scene. I was ready. This was gonna be so great. I was mentally going through all the French I knew in my head, ready to scream it out as the two boys attempted to kidnap me.
As I was kidnapped for the third and final time that night, I opened my mouth to scold the boys for kidnapping such a helpless old woman when I realized the words I was speaking were not my faked French... but Spanish.
In all the excitement of getting picked up and carried away I fell back on the only not-English language I have some degree of familiarity with... Spanish.
The audience freaked out. I freaked out.
The actors were good with it though (thank you Dax and Ben), hanging a lantern on it and promptly knocking me out and dragging me across the floor (yeah, I got several carpet burns that evening). We ended the scene amidst great laughter and cheers. I was once again famous, the girl who screamed random Spanish during that improv show. This random guy came up to me afterwards and said I did great, that he never laughed so hard than during that part. He'd just come back from a mission in Argentina, and me speaking in Spanish... he loved it so much (thanks Cameron).
So, the show ended, and I was thanked profusely by all the actors for coming and participating. Adam and I left with another couple to go to Taco Bell and eat and hang out... nothing further happened with the two of us date-wise, but I knew in my heart that when the next improv show came around, I would be there. I had fallen in love in that brightly lit room late at night, laughing my head off. No one was going to separate me and my improv viewing.
~
This is the end of part 1 of this story. There will be other parts (this is a long, detailed story that deserves all the minute attention) and I'll add links here when I post them. Keep an eye out for more laughter, shenanigans, and injuries as I slowly begin to make friends with the actors and consider my own role.
Part 2 is now here.
Part 3 is now here.
Part 4 is now here.
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