Steve Knows My Story

With a new layer added on to my personality, I decide to test it out in real time. Back on the train I go. Uptown is the place to go when you want to try on a new venue, a new hat, and even a new role. It’s the place to lose yourself and find yourself in the same sentence.

I haven’t done improv in years, but I’m good friends with the host, and so I decide to drop in. I’m a bit late, the performance has already started. I sit in the very last seat in the back, doing my best not to interrupt. The lights are dim as 3 actors move around the stage making cow noises.

“Boy Charlotte, I really wonder how much longer we’ll have the moo for.”

“You know Carl, the time would go by a lot faster if you would stop talking about it and just do it already!”

The crowd chuckles.

“Moo. Moo. Moo. Moo.”

An actor bumps into another.

“Damnit Jackson, I didn’t know you had two left feet.”

“I thought I was right brained!”

The actor screams.

“And scene!”

Shouts the host.

“Ha ha ha, nice choices! Okay, I’m gonna need a group of 5 for the next scene.”

The host starts picking people from out of the crowd. He notices me in the back and flashes a smile. Before he could acknowledge me, I shake my head in rejection of his invitation.

Steve is a cool guy. I’ve been studying under him for two years now. He has been a strong support system in helping me overcome my stage freight. He knows how deep my anxiety runs, ever since that drunken confession in his apartment balcony on New Years. He’s been really good to me since then.

Even though I don’t always want to participate, he knows how to make me feel included. And that’s why this basement has become my home away from home. All the actors have become like family. We’re keen to one another. I support from the background, sure to leave 5 minutes before the last set. Steve see’s me head out the door, he frowns before waving goodbye like a good fellow.

Submissive? More like still healing.