Post Show Blues

This is one of those "only if you can find it" posts. It is all about the weird, hollow feeling I got after I left the improv show tonight. Before the show, I was back in the green room, talking with my teammates. Mike, a guy who never showed up for class, bowed out at the last minute, leaving us down to seven. There is Claire, Dale, John, Brigid, Jeff, Christian and me. Tim had me in 80% of the show, which I took as a vote of confidence. My favorite bit I did was with Dale. We were playing a game called "Understudy" where Dale and I acted out a scene. Usually, in practice, Tim makes the other person leave and then I have to lead that person's understudy through the scene, prompting them to say certain lines or do certain actions. Tonight, Tim sat me down and made Dale do the explaining, which came as quite a shock to all of us. At any rate, the scene that Dale and I played was from a play called Midnight Murder in the Ladies' Restroom. I played an inspector being aided in my investigation by Dale, who was clearly the killer. I remained oblivious and we got in some great banter.

We all took seats in the crowd after our bit was over. We watched the Level 3 guys do a pretty decent job (long form has a way of just bogging down and repeating itself if the players aren't careful). We had the advantage of playing short form games that come in, punch and get out.

When the house lights came up for intermission, we were all finally able to see who came to see us. Now, I only know two people in Kansas City outside of Improv. One is Megan (who was in my first Improv group) and one is Kahla (the cute comic shop girl).  I invited them both (and Kahla's boyfriend) but they weren't there. Everyone else had friends, significant others, relatives or just well-wishers in attendance. After the second act (which was a freaking incredible musical improv show that featured my teacher and some other folks), everyone wanted to be with their families and loved ones to celebrate. I just didn't have anyone to talk to, really. I said my goodbyes and left. As I drove home, the adrenaline rush of the evening was gone and all that was left was this hollow feeling I always get when I accomplish something and no one gives a shit.

I am, in no way saying that Megan or Kahla should have been there (in fact, I think I scared Kahla off the other night by asking too many questions). They are under no obligations to me. And I know, if I had performed in Greenville, I would have been swamped with friends. Even in South Carolina, though, there would have come the time when everyone went home with their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands and wives and I would be left alone.

I saw a picture of myself on stage tonight. My first thought was, "Shit, I am perfectly spherical." No wonder no one wants anything to do with me, romantically. Again, my exercise and diet routine is going to take time and I know this but the bitterness grows anyway.