Thoughts on the Crazy That Is Theater

Ohh the language barrier. I walk out of the subway and into a shop and ask, "Can I get a gyro?" And the dude proceeds to stare at me blankly. "Gyro?" I say, pointing towards the giant sign that says "gyro" with a picture of some really delicious looking beef spilling out of a pita. It took me literally five minutes to get across to these two guys what I wanted. And it's not even on pita.

Ever since I moved into the city of Columbia (proper, not the suburbs that my parents live in), I've been saying that it's a tiny, tiny world. Like, microscopic sometimes. I think that statement should probably be qualified - maybe media and/or arts people inhabit a tiny space, or maybe just people of a certain age range - but I haven't quite decided how yet. But today, at my first production meeting, we're sitting around talking about theater things (see Facebook status update: "Seriously . . . what?"), and in walks a guy that I've been serving coffee to very often for the past year or so. He's a favorite customer because he saw Chloe standing outside Cool Beans once, realized she was mine, and since has not failed to ask after and admire her. The way to my heart is through my puppy. That and the dollar tips he leaves. I'm just sad he's leaving tomorrow, robbing me of what so far seemed like the only sane person in that room. But isn't that crazy? Three days in New York City, and I've already seen someone I know.

I hinted at it yesterday, but I'm going to come out and say it: theater people are crazy. I don't think there's any two ways about that. After meeting the set designer, Simon pulls me aside and says, "don't mess with the man. He's legendary. For being crazy." Something about theater people as a whole, though - maybe it's the personality type that's drawn to something as grandiose and histrionic and frantic as the stage, or maybe the stage actually makes them that way - strikes me as being almost an alien race.

The Wall Street area is fabulous. It's big and old and Gothic, and when I walked out of the subway, the clouds were heading up magnificently behind some of the most beautiful buildings I've ever seen. I took a couple of phone pictures - I'm getting to pulling out the real camera, I swear! - but I'll do it more justice later. There's a great little coffee shop right around the corner from the theater we'll be working at called Manon - Belgian chocolate and some of the smoothest iced coffee I've ever tasted. I'll be frequenting it, wireless or not.