"Yes, And...": Welcome To The Basics

This is part three of a continuing story. If you would like to read parts one and two, you can do so here: Part 1 Part 2.

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It was Monday, just over a week since I'd last seen the Seaside Jesters performing in their second show, and I was facing a dilemma. Tomorrow night was Tuesday night.

Workshop night. 

By this point, a couple people (Peter... my mother...) had been asking whether or not I was planning on coming to the workshops, and my answer was usually something like this. 

"We'll see... my schedule's really full on Tuesday. Maybe next time." 

There are honestly really only so many things to do on a Tuesday night. I didn't work then, preferring to go home after staff meeting and relax. Going to a Jester's workshop would mean getting rid of my night of doing basically nothing and pushing myself to get out of my comfort zone and do social interactions and various other things that are required of people in a social environment. I didn't like that feeling. 

But that Tuesday, while walking to the Reading Writing Center before staff meeting, I decided that I would go to the workshop that night. I would just try it out. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't go, but if I did, I would stay. I texted my mother and told her that I would be coming home later tonight, after the workshop instead of the staff meeting. 

Staff meeting ended, as per usual, and I decided to head over to the workshop. There was one catch... staff meeting ended half an hour before the workshop started. I had a full thirty minutes with nothing to do but hang out and wait for the workshop to start. I hung out with some of my friends that I saw for a while, and then slowly made my way over to the room where the workshop was being held, not wanting to get there super early.

I still got there early, and almost immediately regretted my decision. I was there, and so was Peter, and we were soon joined by Cameron. It was just the three of us, and Peter was the only one with a solid friendship between everyone in the room. I felt awkward and horrible. Luckily for me, Cameron is good at talking, so I didn't have to do much, and soon more people came. I only actually knew a few of these people, and the rest were either near or complete strangers to me.

I began to regret my decision even more. Here I was, stuck in a room full of strangers, trying to pretend that I knew how to do improv and be funny in an attempt to be social. It was the worst. I had no drama experience! I'd only ever taken one semester of drama in high school, and I didn't even have a stage part for our big play, I was just the understudy, because I didn't have enough "stage presence" and "drama" compared to the other girl who auditioned. What the heck was I doing here???

Soon, we were all gathered, and Dax stood up to start the workshop. He mentioned that FoodFest was the next week, and they needed volunteers to work. Melly would be passing around a sign-up sheet, and anyone who could volunteer would be appreciated, as FoodFest is one of the few opportunities for clubs to earn money.

Then we got down to business. Dax went over the basic rules of improv, beginning with the first: "Yes, and..."

"Yes, and..." is a rule that makes improvisational acting what it is. It eliminates the chance to shut people down, and forces them to work with what the situation and their castmates give them and to build upon it, creating a scene and building everyone up. You don't negate what someone else says is in the scene. You say "yes, and..." and then continue to build up the scene from there. Simple enough, right?

They started playing the first game. I decided to sit out, not quite comfortable with the idea of getting up in front of this crowd of strangers who were all capable and funny and watching myself fail and all my jokes fall flat.

The evening continued in much a similar way, with Dax introducing various games to practice/play, and me mostly deciding to sit out and watch, as I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

Then came the last game. Freeze. I could do that. I'd played that game in high school. I'd actually had a lot of fun with that game. I decided to volunteer, and I was quickly selected to go and stand in front of the room with five other people and play.

I was terrible. Absolutely horrible. Just the worst. I got by well enough, certainly, but I wasn't funny. I just had a scene and sometimes people laughed at what one of the other people would say.

Then, near the end, my partner had been frozen, and this boy came to take my partner's place. He was tall, with warm brown hair and a beautifully smooth voice. He took my hands and led me in a quick tango scene, and at the very end, I said something witty, and people laughed! The boy currently holding me laughed! I heard Dax saying "And that's our game!" in the background, and the game was over.

I learned right afterwards that the tango/dancing boy's name was William Walter Arnett the Third. The workshop ended, and I started walking home, thinking that maybe these workshops weren't the worst ideas ever. I would go again next week.

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And thus ends the third part of this story. The fourth (and final) part of this story is here.