Remain Nameless

Last evening, I had the pleasure of filling in for an actor who was unable to do an added performance for a show at the DC Black Theatre Festival.  The play is called "Harlem 9/11," by Steve Langley.  I was contacted and sent the script on Wednesday.  No pressure, I could carry the script onstage with me.  The director, my friend, Angelisa Gillyard, agreed to meet me at 3PM yesterday at the Atlas Performing Arts Center to go over all of my blocking, props, costume changes, etc.  Curtain was at 8PM.

There was a show that was taking place at 6PM in the same space--a show that shall remain nameless.  We knew this going in, no biggie. 

So it was sometime after 5PM, and we were informed by Atlas staff that we had 20 more minutes in the space.  We were a little over halfway through the script, working to get me up to speed. 

No lie, about 10 minutes later, the doors of the theatre lab space burst open.  The heavens parted!  Lightning flashed across the Western Hemisphere!  And in walked a lady--who shall remain nameless, because honestly I don't know her name. "I'm not trying to be a diva"--instant red flag--"but I need this space!  I didn't get this space on time yesterday, and my characters were running all into each other! I apologize, but I need this space to focus," she railed as she trotted around the space.

?

? again.

*blink* *blink*

I was puzzled because I was the new guy.  I was gauging Angelisa for a reaction, but she appeared to be counting down from 10. I wasn't going to move from the stage, until the director said to move.  After a deep sigh, though, Angelisa told us to gather our things so that we could continue in the green room. (I do think I remember a moment of Angelisa going for her earrings to take them off, but then Jesus must've stepped into her heart).

Now, I didn't know who this lady was.  If she were Patti Labelle, ReRe, Gladys Knight. . . or even Jasmine Guy, I would've bowed at her feet.  Unless you are one of those names, however, then there is a way that your mother taught you to address people in situations like this.  It's called "diplomacy."  Angelisa is a VERY reasonable and approachable person.  The drama queen could've simply slipped into the doors and pulled Angelisa to the side.  She could've stated her case--politely--using some keywords like "please" and "appreciate."  I guarantee she woud've received the same result, and no hard feelings.

As it was, when we got to the green room, the comedy of it all was revealed:

IT WAS A ONE-WOMAN SHOW!

How are your characters "running into each other"?  Couldn't you have practiced in a bathroom stall?  You're the only performer!  Now you just sound crazy.  Unnecessarily crazy.

Then I found out that on the previous evening, "Harlem 9/11's" tech rehearsal got extended significantly, because this lady was rather late. . . by an hour or two.

Yeah.

So the reason she didn't get into her space until late, and her characters were running into each other, was, of course. . .

. . . her own fault. :)

To that, I tip my hat and laugh.

(Remaining nameless)---->