Playwriting is a Great Excuse

Emma: Are you being the horse? Me: Yes.

This last weekend, the Milburn Stone Theatre produced my play The Girl, the Fox, and the One Left Behind as part of their Emerging Artist(s) One Act Play Festival, and after three years of having my stuff produced there, I finally got a chance to go down and see them. And I used it as a chance to also see my friends down in Washington DC.

The lovely Dana, who does hilarious stand up and the lovely Emma, who does beautiful acting, tore up the town with me, posing with statues, exploring mansions, looking at the world's last living dinosaur, and eating brunch like there was no brunch tomorrow.

But there was, and it was delicious.

They even accompanied me, along with Eric and Justin, two lovely Carls, up to North East to see the play festival. So, when I rolled in to the Milburn Stone, I totally had a posse. It was awesome.

And the best part?

Even after listening to a good thirty minutes of double entendres about furniture, they were still my friends.

The director and cast. Hooray!

Part of that, I'm sure, is due to the cast, who were more than game for romancing the sofa, and dropping their pants, and giving passionate monologues about cookies. There's always something both magical and reassuring about seeing someone else make your words work. The first time I saw a production of  a play of mine that I wasn't involved with was when BareStage Theatre did MUSE. 
It was right after I graduated, and the cast was high school students, and I was really really nervous. But, they did a killer job, and really embraced the material (including the violent bear attack at the end), and it was great. I wrote in this little blog:

It feels so good to make strangers laugh. I never want to stop. It was awesome.

Sigh. You said it, 22 year-old me.

So, how do you have as much fun as I did in DC?

Just ask Emma and her lion friend!

First - Visit The Museum of Unnatural History. 
It's a non-profit organization devoted to literacy and tutoring, plus a sarcastic museum. Much like the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Store Co. except with more whimsical taxidermy and dioramas

Second - Go to the Mansion on O Street
It's pretty much a big weird house full of antiques and kitsch, but it's also full of secret doors and hidden passageways.  Now I'm a sucker for weird, old houses (I kinda did a whole fringe show about it), and there is a special sort of joy when you pull on a mirror and the whole wall swings open. I'm pretty sure I squealed, we high-fived one another in joy, and then I said, out loud, "I am having SUCH a good time!" So, if you're into wandering around and playing Scooby-doo while hunting for bizarre antiques.

Third - Have your show produced. It's a pretty swell feeling.
Or, go see your friend's show produced. I understand that is enjoyable as well. For those who couldn't make it out to North East, here's a bit of what you missed:

LEE
This box contains the purest essence of distilled desire.

TOM

Liquid sex?

LEE

Or powdered, we’re not entirely sure.

TOM

Wait, what do you mean you’re not sure?

LEE
No one who has opened this box has ever recorded what was inside.

TOM

Really?

ANDRE
Guess they were busy doing other things, if you know what I mean.

You see, one drop or whiff of whatever’s in this box and you’re like Aphrodite, Venus, Valentino and Cleopatra put together.

TOM

Wow.

LEE

Venus and Aphrodite are the same thing, it’s just the Greek and Roman names.

ANDRE

You’re twice of them then.

TOM

Wait, if no one’s ever opened it—

LEE

Oh, they have.

TOM

But there’s no record! How do we know this isn’t just a box of lead or something? I mean, this could be some stupid ancient hoax that we just spent months falling for.

I don’t want to be a sap.

LEE
Fine. You don’t believe it?

Here.

SHE PUTS HER HAND ON THE BOX. THEY ALL FOLLOW SUIT. LEE PUTS HER FINGERNAIL IN BETWEEN THE LID AND THE BOX AND SQUEAKS IT OPEN JUST A MILLIMETER.

INSTANTLY, A WAVE OF WARM PLEASURE WASHES OVER THEM. THEY HEAVE A CONTENTED SIGH.

ANDRE

Oh my.

TOM

It’s like my body is made of cookies

ANDRE

Sexy cookies. 

TOM

Yeah. Warm, sexy cookies.

LEE

When the outside has that crispness, but the middle is this explosion of sugar and butter and joy that bursts in your mouth, coats the back of your teeth, so when you tongue goes searching for that one last morsel, that fleeting shadow of pleasure, it lingers on a hidden cache of melted chocolate, sweet and dark tucked in the corner of your lips.

SHE BRUSHES HER FINGER OVER THE CORNER OF HER LIPS AND SUCKS THE IMAGINARY CHOCOLATE OFF OF IT, SLOWLY.

SHE REALIZES WHERE SHE IS AND WHO SHE’S WITH.

Obviously, this is a powerful artifact.