Crazy people are my favorite...sometimes

In an effort to flex my performance muscle, I've recently started taking an improv class. I had my first session (of 6) on Monday night, and I really enjoyed it.

I did some improv in high school--sort of by accident--and really loved it. But I've never really pursued it, or attempted to get better. Turns out, I'm still pretty good; but this class is giving me the basic training I need to get better--as well as the creative outlet that I'm desperately seeking. It's truly a perfect fit for me right now.

I was a little nervous to begin. What if I suck at this? What if the teacher is lame? What if it's not as fun as I remember? But I was surprised at how much came back to me--and how much I have to learn. The other beginners are great classmates: no one was hogging the stage; everyone was there to have a good time; it was a no pressure environment, etc.

In fact, things were going so well, I almost couldn't believe it.

And then Gina showed up.

We had 40 minutes left in the class. All of a sudden this 50-something woman comes barreling into the theatre.
"I'm sorry I'm late. I've taken this class three times, but I want to take it again. And then I couldn't find parking. I forgot how difficult it is to find parking downtown. I was circling and circling and circling. Can I sit in?"

Although I used punctuation above, this came out of her mouth in a single breath. She was about 5'3'' and of an average build. Her bobbed red hair framed her face neatly, but there was a depth of insanity that seemed to seep out of her. The class began to fidget almost immediately.

My teacher nervously broke the ice. "Yeah, it's fine. We end at 9, but why don't you come and introduce yourself."

She got on stage, and by then it was clear we were doomed.

The introduction was supposed to be your name, what you do for a living, and why you're taking the class. Basic stuff.

What we got was a diatribe so ridiculous, it's almost hard for me to believe that it happened. I've done my best to paraphrase below:

"Hello," she started. "My name is Gina. I work for the federal government. And let me tell you, it's the safest place to be right now. Not the state, not the local, but the federal. I've been there for almost a year now. Hooray! (Picture arms in the air.) About three months after I started, they asked me to role play in my job. And sometimes, I really lose myself in the part. I mean, it's fun to think on your feet and pretend to be a drug dealer or criminal. This one time I brought a cane into the confession room and just started to hit stuff. I mean, people were scared. I was scared. Sometimes things just come out, like, 'Hey, there's a donut!' or 'Get off me!' Of course I have dreams of becoming an actress. Everybody does. But there are times when I really don't know where I end and the role playing begins."

This kind of chatter continued for a full 3 minutes. We were all sort of mesmerized by what was going on. My mouth was agape during her monologue. How could it not be? This lady was on par with a verbal train wreck of epic proportions. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, something even more insane would exit her mouth.

My teacher finally cut her off mid-sentence.

"OK. That's great, thanks for sharing," he said. I can only imagine what he must have been thinking.

"Yeah, that's the end," she said, walking back to her seat. (Which by some happy accident, was right next to mine.)

But that woman is a liar. It's not the end. When class was over, she marched right up to the instructor and paid in full for the class. I understand his position: theatres are hurting right now, and an extra person in a six-week class is a lot of money. But still, I'm very concerned about future sessions.

I really hope she's sick next week.