This is what happens when you do favors for people. I was a last minute replacement when they had some girl drop out unexpectedly. My friend Jake asked me at an audition we were both at two weeks ago to step in, and I realized I wasn't doing anything else this weekend so might as well. I do more random stuff because I have nothing else scheduled, I swear. Another friend Andrew is also in the show, in the first piece of the evening, which was unknown to me until he sent out an invite e-mail. This just proves once again that the New York Theatre world is really only four people big, and that some where along the line, you'll have worked with everyone, even if just by-proxy.
I have to find/write another play wherein I play a stewardess so I can get my money's worth out of the costume. Though I have to say, I have a right mind to wear the little jacket out--it's ridiculous, but somehow cute in it's gratuitousness. Very dance recital. I need to put some darts in the back, though. I picked it up at Abracadabra, and I suppose it's meant to be one of those "sexy costumes"<--the company that manufactured it was called "Secret Wishes." It's made out of this kind of manufactured polyester that's closer to plastic, that I can only assume is really useful in terms of being easy to clean if something is spilled on it ("Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more!"). I look very silly, I assure you. But I do so little in the play (the majority of my lines are directions: "Left turn in point two miles." "Make a left." "Remain on the current road.") that I had to do something to entertain myself. This was the best thing I could think of.
I guess this will be the last show I do in New York. That realization is kind of weird, considering the piece, and considering that it may very well be it for me in this city. But that can't true. I don't think I really believe that.
I wish I had little gloves that stopped at the wrist. That would be the ultimate accessory for this outfit.
Next time.
