Friday evening there was an unexpected phone call...from an improv troupe that's not employed my services since the mid-nineties! I figured they must have been really desparate to have remembered my name. They obviously have a long list of people they call, and, with short notice, everyone above me on that list had said no.
I told them they weren't offering enough money to pique my interest, and, surprisingly, they said "How much WOULD make it worth your while?" So, I merrily cancelled plans to go to a dinner party in Harlem and hit the road for an unheard of town in New Jersey.
We pulled up to find a locked theatre. But our contact was there, and he'd already called the police. That's right: He was going to convince the police to unlock the theatre, which appeared to be part of a high school. It seated about 1000 and had a lovely grand piano for me to play. The audience, from the look of them, was far beyond high school: Nobody under 60.
I can't say we did a very good show, but being with the cast of four and the stage manager for those 8 hours wasn't trying or unpleasant. I had a good enough time, and bid them a fond farewell: "We'll have to do this again... in 2009."
