All this time I’ve been saying that I need to be careful with my legs such that I’ll be rested and uninjured for my big race. And yet, here I am lying in bed with a sore left knee and a strained right calf. What the heck happened? Well, really it’s been a rather full night. Again, I wasn’t really intending on it being a full night, but hey, what are you going to do, right?
After work, I went over to an Irish pub close to Yonge and Bloor to meet an old colleague. I hadn’t seen him in months. It was good to get a chance to bitch about the state of work and how everything is becoming a strange stage play of intrigue, possibilities, in-fighting and backstabbing. Oh yes, indeed. I started out with a pint of Strongbow, which was nice and mellow. I didn’t intend on drinking all that much, but after we finished our first drinks I ordered a pint of Sapporo. My colleague did the same. After a while, my colleague peered over and saw a guy at the bar drinking from this big-ass mug. We were both so taken by the size that we asked the server what the deal was with the mug. She corrected us and informed us that it was a stein. She said that we could order one of three beers with it. I think my colleague was reluctant, but I decided to dive right in and egged him on to do the same. Well, when the steins arrived we were in sheer shock over how big the damn things were. Sure, they didn’t look so big when the other guy had it, but to us they were enormous. To our Asian sensibilities it was perhaps a bit more than we could handle, but we were determined. Those steins were our Everest. We did eventually conquer them, but only after some hesitation. By the end of the steins we decided to just end it. After paying our bills we parted ways. I decided to walk eastward to at least burn off some of what I had just ingested.
So what happened after drinking? Why am I slightly sore and injured? Find out more after the jump!
So, as I walked east I passed by a McDonalds. Knowing that they had a free coffee deal going on I decided to take advantage. I figured that it would help me sober up a bit. The coffee was far too hot, so I spent some time in the restaurant just cooling the thing down. When it was cool enough, I decided to bring it with me as I stumbled over the Bloor Viaduct. So yeah, that mildly drunk guy swaying as we was thoroughly enjoying his free McDonalds coffee was probably me.
After crossing the viaduct, I checked my watch and saw that it was almost time for The Jam! over at Bad Dog Theatre. That’s the show where the audience participates and plays all sorts of improv games. I was still tipsy and trying to sober up, so I was thinking of just forgoing the event, but in the end my need to urinate drew me into the theatre. Yes: again. So, after peeing, I sat down in the lobby waiting with the other show-goers. I don’t know if it was the alcohol, but I seemed to hit it off with a couple of people. We all shook hands and were quite friendly with each other. I think I brought out the Pepperpot accent in conversation here and there. I think I would have suppressed it under normal circumstances–especially with strangers–but hey, I think the alcohol was still having an effect. I told people that I was using the event to sober up. It was accepted as a valid reason. Why not?
Anyway, we all filed into the theatre and I sat down behind my new acquaintances. I didn’t know what to expect, but the host was skillful in making us all feel at ease. One of her first activities was to get us all to act excessively happy as she raised her arms. That was OK, but I was more amused with the part where she made us act excessively angry. I started off growling, and as she raised her arms I tossed in the heavy breathing and animalistic grunting. By the end I had a couple of people staring at me, which amused me a little bit.
The first full activity I did was this activity where a pair of us would explain some vacation slides as depicted by the poses of the other people. The lights would go out, and when they came on, the other performers would be in some pose. The other two would describe what was going on. I somehow got assigned to be a describer. The suggested vacation was diamond mining in Afghanistan. Ooh, that was tough. I mean, I didn’t want to dive into stereotypes, but for the purposes of improv it seemed like the thing to do. I mean, yeah, there were some “Praise Allah!” poses and some land mine references, but I think I got away with not having to be too offensive. Nonetheless it was a strange activity.
Next game we played involved having groups of people go up and perform actions together in unison. When someone modified the action, we all would follow and try to make it as seamless as possible. For my group we started rubbing our noses and for the longest time we were rubbing our necks. I was looking around waiting for someone to do something. Then, someone made a loud step, so I made a loud step. Someone repeated, so I reciprocated again. And it went on and I started stomping harder and harder to a beat. Then someone starting clapping so we all started clapping. Somehow it all turned into some east coast hoe-down and I was all right with that.
So after that we got into the big activity which was long form improv. I’d never done it before, but it seemed to be just like the scene activities that we did in class, so I just ran with all of the stuff I’d learned in the past. I was fortunate enough to be part of three (and a half) different scenes while my group was up. The audience offered up a suggestion of “cookies” as inspiration.
Scene 1
Two guys seemed to be crouching in front of an oven door, greedily peering into the oven and then grabbing the seemingly unbaked goods. They were burning their hands. I jumped in with as strong a British Pepperpot accent that I could muster and scolded them: “What are you doing? I told you those cookies will be done in half an hour!” They responded that they wanted the cookies right away. I told them that if they did that they’d burn their hands. “They’re already burned” whined one. Then I just sighed and deadpanned: “Fiiiine, go ahead, burn your hands and see if I care.” The scene ended there.
Scene 2
There was bit of a dialogue going on about oxygen tanks and a bunch of old people with walkers lugging them around. Someone came in smoking a cigarette, but nothing exploded. An old man in a wheelchair came in saying that he wanted to die. Still, no explosions or no deaths. So, I jumped in and looked at the lot of them. I decided that I was a caregiver. What came out was somehow in a southern accent: “What are y’all doing?” I looked at the wheelchair dude “Mr. Johnston, you’re coming with me. I’m taking you back to your room.” I started wheeling him out, and as I did he exclaimed “but I want to die in the oxygen explosion.” I replied with a sigh “Yeah yeah, I know, we all want to die…” End scene.
Scene 3
Don’t think I was directly involved with this one. There were two guys on stage doing target practice. One seemed to be an ace while the other was more unsure. The first guy took a shot and it was OK. The second guy then took a shot. The guy beside me off stage had the same idea as me, and we both exclaimed in pain like someone got hit. Thing is, he exclaimed like a guy got hit while I made a mooing noise. The guy next to me recovered: “How the heck did you hit me and the cow?!” We continued to wince and moo with every shot.
Scene 4
For the last scene for our group, two guys were up staring at an over door admiring some cookies. I jumped in, stood walked by and pretended to be enthralled by the cookies. “Hey, you guys…whoooooa…COOKIES.” I stood between them and proceeded to start breathing heavily. In my mind I wanted to almost make it into a sexual grunt, so I just started breathing heavily with strong inhales and a couple of “oh yeahs” tossed in. The other two stepped back and told me to calm down. I was just far too into the cookies though. So I started breathing deeper and slowed it down to show that I was attempting to regain control. They told me not to get too excited, but I meekly pointed to the oven: “but…cookie!” “You have to calm down!” exclaimed one. I was just too excited though. I started feeling bad about it so I crouched and cried “I can’t help it!!!” I really started pouring on the junkie vibe at that point. I was walking away, pretending I had control but then I started diving for the oven again. “COOOKIE!” One of the guys held me back, so I used that moment to really go for the physical comedy. I started crawling on the ground, but the guy was holding me back successfully. I was really going for it. This is totally where I hurt my left knee and right calf. “I WANT IT!” The other guy then said “OK, I’m going to let you have one.” In disbelief and desperation, I asked, “Really? Seriously? You mean it?” He nodded and gave me a cookie. I took it in my hands and proceeded to lustfully snort the scent of the cookie like I was having some sort of transcendental moment. I had no idea where the scene would go from there, but the guy that gave me the cookie said: “Yeah…it’s just a lot of fun watching him do that.” The scene ended there.
Yes, so, by the end of all of the scenes I was a little bit more sober. Gosh, that whole thing was a lot of fun. Even with total strangers, I still managed to relate and find stories together with them. Who knew that I’d end up on stage making a fool of myself in front an audience tonight? Sincerely, I think I can get used to this, eh? Though…I wonder if the alcohol was a factor. Hahah!
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