Monday, September 20, 2010

Some Embarrassing Confessions

I really missed Walt today. I was reviewing the third show this weekend, Camelot at the Woodland Opera House. It's a fabulous production and I'm giving it a glowing review.

guen_arthur.jpg (59724 bytes)

But because it's Sunday, it was a matinee, a 2 p.m. production. I've become MUCH better about shows over the past couple of years. Ever since I stopped working a 9-5 job, transcribing at night, and reviewing shows all at the same time, I almost never have problem falling asleep in a show. And if I do, Walt knows that his role is to poke me to wake me up again.

Things became much better when I realized that even if I'd had a good night of sleep the night before, I really needed to take a nap before a show. Doesn't make a difference if it's the best show in the world, I tend to nod off during the show without a nap.

But at a matinee, on a day when I'd slept until nearly 8 a.m. in the morning (though the dogs going into barking frenzy at midnight had me kind of spooked for awhile, but the front door was barricaded), I didn't think I would be sleepy.

I took my friend Ruth to the show with me. She hadn't liked Thursday night's show very much and I figured this would make up for it. And it did. Fabulous casts, beautiful looking show and everything was wonderful.

Except I got sleepy. More than one time...many more than one times...I found myself picking myself up after leaning waaaay over to the side and falling asleep. Ruth didn't know that her role was to poke me. I missed a crucial scene. I just hate it when I do that. But 3-show weekends are always tough on me. I don't know how New York critics go to a show every night!

In addition to falling asleep intermittently throughout the show, there was the finale. I haven't seen Camelot for a long time. The first time we were involved in the show here in Davis, David had the role of young Tom of Warwick, the kid who comes on at the end, wanting to be a knight of the round table and who helps Arthur realize that his legend will live on.

So when this production's young Tom of Warwick came on, all I could think of was David and the tears flowed. I just hate crying at the end of the show because I leave the theatre with red eyes and I am just so embarrassed to admit I've been crying--especially this time because I was crying over memories and not the show itself. I didn't want to admit to Ruth that I was crying either, so I told her we had to wait for a minute, while I rummaged through my purse for my cell phone and I sent Walt a message that said "Run, Tom of Warwick." I felt more under control and less weepy and we were able to leave the theatre.

I drove Ruth home and decided I would get something for dinner. I hadn't decided if I would pick up something or have dinner in a restaurant, but suddenly I realize I had to go to the bathroom very, very badly, so my decision had nothing to do with where or what I was going to eat, but where I could find the closest bathroom.

I decided on a Chinese restaurant and decided I'd do take-out, and told the guy I had to use his bathroom first. He directed me to the rest rooms. I opened the door and it was pitch black and I couldn't find the light switch. Things were getting more and more desperate and I can't find the damn light switch anywhere.

I finally opened the door far enough to take aim on the toilet, then shut the door and groped my way there in the dark. I wasn't quite in time and peed on myself and on the floor before getting most of it in the toilet. How embarrassing!!! When I finished, I had the time to open the door and find the light switch which was about 3 feet from the door and up higher than a normal lightswitch.

Since I was ordering take-out, I didn't leave a big tip, which is too bad because of the mess I left in the bathroom. Another embarrassing confession.


harrietv said...

How do New York critics do it? They don't foster dogs.

Bev Sykes said...

good point!