Just another Saturday in the city

Day 37: Saturday, March 25

The weather was a little warmer Saturday, but since it was a two-show day, and likely to be exhausting, I decided to walk only a little way. I had a choice of walking to Astor Place and taking the 6, or Union Square and taking the 6, R, or W, and since Union Square was farther—I was likely to not get a walk in Saturday and wanted to get in as much as I could.

 

It was warm enough that I wanted an iced, rather than hot, tea from Starbucks, so I stopped at Union Square East, crossed the street and got on the train, arriving at the theatre in plenty of time.

It was a typical Saturday pre-show. I looked over the script, we ran some stuff, chatted, and debriefed how well the show had gone the night before. (We’d gotten an overnight email from the stage manager reminding us to stay focused and keep listening to one another and stick to the values we’d added in the rehearsal process. This struck me as odd, since the Friday show had been so good, but I took it in the spirit in which I assumed it was intended; as a heads-up to be sure not to let things get away from us and to keep our heads in the game.)

I opened the box I’d gotten from the AFLers the night before, and it honestly took me a couple of seconds to get it. Here:

 I wouldn't give your troubles ...

The solution is that, on television, Dave Letterman would frequently say he wouldn’t give his (or someone’s) troubles “to a monkey on a rock,” so that’s what this is: a “monkey” on a rock. I was, again, touched (or tetched, some might say) and sent them what I hoped was an adequate thank you. 

While we were waiting, there was a knock at the door, and Beth appeared with one of those gift bags liquor stores put wine bottles into. I opened it and there was a new bottle of champagne from a friend in San Francisco. I was, as always, touched, but when I took a closer look at the card—which was one of our postcards, I realized she was there.

The matinee went well. The audience was quiet, but the show was good and they seemed to appreciate it. I don’t want to say we’ve finally got the damn thing down, though, since A) we don’t, and B) that kind of thinking leads to sloppiness and a lack of care. I think it’s more that I (and I assume, we) know that the key for the final week will be to just keep listening and focused. When we do that, things seem to work the way they’re supposed to. After the show, I saw the friend who'd come from San Francisco to see us and we chatted about work and art and some other things.

As always, we had a four-hour break between shows. Brendan had brought his laptop and played computer games in the dressing room while I used the theatre’s wifi to read some emails and surf a little. I decided to go over to Starbucks for a backup iced tea. With my new hair regimen, though (mousse and hair spray), I really didn’t want to take off my Sam turtleneck and have to redo things for the evening show, so I went out, perfectly coiffed, looking like some Silicon Valley douchebag. I survived, though it had gotten noticeably colder.

The evening performance was very good, as well; not quite what we had done Friday or in the matinee, but still good. It had the added bonus of having not just Cheryl, my copy-editor friend (who left early enough to make curtain this time) but the former chair of my undergrad college theatre department. I spoke to the latter for a few minutes, then Cheryl and I had a drink at the theatre bar. The bar was lightly attended that night, so they closed early. I’d left all my stuff in the dressing room, and they’d locked the hall door in the meantime, so I had to get a staffer to let me in. Cheryl and I took the same train to 14^th Street, where I got out, transferred to the L (that same damn violinist is still down there, sawing away) and got out at 1^st Avenue so I could stop off and get a couple of slices of pizza for supper. There’s a place on 1^st that I particularly like, so I was able to get two slices. One of them looked kind of skimpy, but it all turned out to be more than enough.

After that, it was off to bed reasonably early for the Sunday matinee loomed.