The Zombies Ate My Brains

Rescuing what might remain of the grey matter.

It’s Show Time

When I was a member of the London Community Players, the local amateur theatre troupe, I enjoyed most aspects of mounting a play. Everything but the run. After all of the energy spent interpreting script, painting scenery, assembling props, I was ready to close a show after opening night. Like a drive with mom and dad, I was all “are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet?” And then, when we arrived at our destination, “OK, I’m good. Let’s go home.” This was especially the case when I had a behind-the-scenes role like stage manager or dresser. Sure, I was more motivated as an actor. But only marginally.

The reason? Possibly boredom. Definitely boredom when I was not on stage. Exhaustion, too. Usually rehearsals and the run last about two months. During the last two or three weeks, evenings are entirely devoted to the show. That, and the post mortems held in the bar afterward.

But the real resistance was fear. There were people in those theatre seats. People who forked over their money for entertainment. People with opinions and people who wrote reviews and moms and friends and troupe members who were not awarded a part.

Our seats, therefore, were on the line.

Once, I followed through on the impulse to call it curtains. I had just finished a show, and two weeks later when the auditions for Dial M for Murder were called, The Performer and I attended the try-outs. I had a blast at the audition. I usually do. Actually, auditions are my favourite part of the whole mounting-a-play ordeal.

We were chosen as leads – he in the role of murderous hubby and I the wife, the target of said murderous intent. How happy were we, right? But a week after the euphoria evaporated, it sunk in. What the hell was I thinking? Back-to-back shows? No way. No way, no how.

I begged forgiveness of the director, and bailed on the show. Fortunately, the runner-up actress was more than delighted to accept the part. Regrets? I had a few. But then again… too few…sorry, that’s lame. But let’s just say that the new wifey had her eye on more than her lines.

Ah, theatre.

The purpose of this lengthy intro? The prompt, you wonder?

It’s show time, folks. Next Wednesday, at 1:00 PM, I have a job interview.

I do great at job interviews. Only once have I not been awarded a job after an interview, and that was for a job I didn’t really want.

Do I want this job? Do I need this job? Am I up for the daily routine and no-afternoon-naps-allowed of a new job?

I have no idea.

Wish me luck? Or should I say, tell me to break a leg.

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34 replies

  1. Maggie–have he chutzpah of Michael Keaton and the job will be yours! Break a leg, gal!

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  2. I’ll be on stage in about four hours for our third performance of Two Gentlemen of Verona so…. I hear ya, sister. I had to laugh the other day when I was having a little whinge to the Husband about having the smallest part in the play and he pointed out that when I get a major role I spend the whole time stressing that I shouldn’t have it and doing the “what was I thinking?” thing. Actors….

    Chookas for the show, dahling!!

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  3. Break a leg. And if they don’t offer you the job, break their legs.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I hope it is the job you want, as it sounds as if it will be yours!
    Love having a look into your acting career, but glad you opted out of that dangerous part in dial M…
    The next one was probably welcome to him, no?

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    • Thanks, Barbara – I hope so too, about the job. It will be invigorating for the novelty and the shake-up to the routine. Then, when the honeymoon period is over… Wait. I’ll stop there and not forecast myself into gloom and doom!

      Sorry for being dense – I’m going to blame it on having only one cup of coffee, Barbara – but I don’t follow your question about “the next one”.

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  5. Is there any thing you don’t do?

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  6. hmmmm – on one hand I want to say good luck, but on the other hand, if you get a job I’ll have no one to go on random adventures with me 😦

    oh well, must not be selfish …. break a leg!!

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  7. Fabulous intro and segue into your upcoming job interview. You’ve got the skills, the common sense, and the confidence. Go nail that sucker if it’s what you want. Dear Maggie ….

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  8. Good luck on the job!!! Or maybe I should say Break a Leg! I wish more actresses would have bailed when my daughter was their understudy ;).

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    • 🙂 Thanks, Luanne. I wonder if anyone has kept track of the number of times an understudy had to step in. I would imagine a very low percentage. Which would make it very hard on the understudy if she was dying to get on stage!

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  9. Reading backward, Maggie, how about this:
    I wish you every success at achieving exactly what it is you want that will keep you healthy and happy.

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