Friday morning, on the train, I suddenly blurted out “oh fuck”, as I remembered I have that improv class tonight.
I had signed up at the recommendation of a writer friend that performs with UCB. And ever since, I’ve been dreading it.
I think it’s because of my experience at theater camp when I was around 12. We played this exercise called “TV” where we had to stand on stage and be funny, and every time the teacher pointed, we had to change to a different “channel”. After two channel changes, I froze. I couldn’t think of anything funny. And I never touched improv again.
So, naturally, with Alice‘s blessing, I tried to leave time for a drink before class. But, it didn’t really work out, so I had to go with caffeine instead.
I walked in 10 minutes early to find about 15 people staring at the door. 15 strangely good-looking people. I paused, contemplating the odds of finding this many attractive people in one room at the same time. I mean, they weren’t all supermodels but they all had a distinctive *look*. Were they all actors? “Hi”, a couple people waved at me. “Hi.” Why didn’t I put on makeup? Why do I wear my hot pink sneakers, always?
I was so curious, I couldn’t wait until the part of the class where we go around and say why we’re here. Turned out, that’s not part of the class, so I still don’t know why they’re all good looking.
I knew the instructor’s name was David Siegel, so as the 16 of us sat staring at the door, I expected someone who looks like my gynecologist to walk in. Instead, it was some kid who couldn’t be older than 32. And, btw, he’s awesome.
Guys, apparently, improv is not that scary. In fact, in long form improv, you’re not supposed to try to be funny. Perfect!
So, I’m not exactly Amy Poehler yet, but I’m working on it.
There’s a 75% chance that I’m later going to regret inviting the world, but if you’re interested in seeing me show off my Improv 101 skills, the performance is March 2.