So last night we had a show. My boss came; other co-workers came. They enjoyed it, and so did I. Since it is a "Festival of One-Acts", and I'm only in the first one, I have a lot of down-time back stage. When actors aren't on stage, they can often be found in the Green Room. This is a room, or closet, or end-of-the-hall, where actors can put on their costumes and make-up and quietly repeat lines to themselves and others. Frequently these rooms are sweltering (or freezing) and poorly lit.
Over the course of this show, I've had many enjoyable times in the Green Room. I've played Telephone Pictionary (funnest game ever for groups), I've been pooped on by a hedgehog (no really, a REAL one. The pooping wasn't so fun - but the snuggling before was cool). I've been involved in good massages and better conversations. But last night, there was THE best conversation:
We were discussing pregnancy, because that's kind of what one of the shows is about. One of the What-to-expect-when-you're-expecting type of books was saying that if you're about to give birth, but you're stuck alone, you shouldn't panic, because a woman's body can do most of the work itself. Without missing a beat, a guy in the show who plays a rather dry-witted penguin, says:
"If you're giving birth and you're alone, just dial up Papa Gino's(pizza) and leave the door ajar. That way, when they get there, they'll be responsible for delivering the baby, and when you're done you can eat the pizza."
That is an elegant solution, indeed. I love the theatre...