Here we are, opening night. All the late nights rehearsing, all the weekends spent building, building, building sets, all the stress and angst of wearing the face of a person I really can't stand. It all comes to this.
It's not really opening night per se. We've already had a paying audience in the form of kids from Norris Middle School across the street. And unlike the middle school audience we played to for And Then There Were None, these laughed in the right places, were tense in most of the right places, and generally gave a lot back. It was a pretty gratifying show.
But let me make a recommendation, kids: SHUT UP. No one is paying to hear you talk. Don't repeat the dialogue back at the players, don't shout "He's got a knife!" during the pivotal scene. SHUT UP, and stay shut. What you're doing, if it isn't that, is rude. Whether it's an issue of self-respect, respect for your fellow theatergoers, or whatever, shut up. Whatever it takes.
Hang up the cell phone. Don't text on it, either. If you're not watching the play, then what are you even doing in the seat? Get out. I busted my butt to learn these lines and build this set and get home in time for rehearsal for over a month. And I'm not the only one - there's a few dozen people involved with making this show happen. So if that's not worth your attention, get out of the seat so someone who will appreciate it can watch.
So there's my little rant. That's over with. And now that I've had a performance where I confess I flubbed a whole block of lines (and thank you Drew for saving the scene!) some of the big stress of the whole experience is just gone. Can't do it worse, right?
Well, let's not test that. I've got butterflies again.
Call is in thirty minutes. Curtain goes up again in ninety. Break a leg!