Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

I haven't set any hard and fast New Year's resolutions this year but simply resolved to finally act on things I've wanted to do for years, to take a chance. That's why Saturday I auditioned for ComedySportz, the improv comedy troupe in Philadelphia.

Since last spring, I've been taking improv classes through ComedySportz and am currently in the advanced improv class. I felt reasonably confident about giving it a shot.

Beforehand, I talked to The Gryphon about the time commitment, should I be accepted, and we agreed that we could work around it. I didn't want to show up and not be prepared to follow through if I made it.

My audition time was at 3, so The Gryphon and I slept in, got some brunch at the Marathon Grill at 40th Street, did a little grocery shopping, hung out at home for a little while, and then headed to Center City. He hung out at a Starbucks while I went to my audition.

My instructor, Dave, had told me the audition would only take about 10 minutes and that there shouldn't be much of a line. I'd been advised to show up about 10 minutes early, though, to fill out a form. The form asked for contact information, information about my background in performance arts, why I was interested in ComedySportz and one silly question, if I were a beauty pageant contestant, what would my talent be. I wrote that it would be comedy juggling, but I had no idea why I said that, because I couldn't juggle.

As I waited for my term, two of the troupe members were chatting and making everyone feel more relaxed. One of them, a tall guy named Ian, asked everyone who came out if they had fun. I thought that was a great way to make the process seem less intimidating for those who were still waiting to audition.

When it was my turn, they sent me upstairs to a room where three troupe members were waiting. One of them was my instructor for the intermediate class, Mary, and two others were people I hadn't met. I think they were named Matt and Cheryl. They told me that they were a help desk at a grocery store that sold everything. I was supposed to come in as three different characters and ask for help for a product. I could take my time and start when I wanted.

I decided not to think too hard about it but to just jump in. First, I came in as a hick with some sort of a back problem. I was looking for a lawnmower which could also do my laundry and develop photos for me. They sent me to the Future Department, though I proclaimed I was afraid of the future.

Next, I came in as a stoned out hippie, asking for the smoking section. They said it was out front, like everywhere. I said, "Oh, I meant smoking supplies." They said that was in the basement. "With the tie-dyes and the tapestries?" Yes. "Upstairs, right?"

"No, in the basement."

"Oh, your basement is downstairs!" I also had trouble finding the door on the way out.

The last thing I did was come in as an old lady. I said, "My husband came in here. He's looking for me." They said there were two guys waiting in the security room. One was tall and one was short and fat. I asked them if I could choose one, and they told me I could, so I toddled out of the room.

Then I did a one-minute speech on why chickens are from outer space. I said they were from outer space because they're so weird and everything that came from outer space was weird. Like Carrot Top. They actually laughed at that.

I said they were trying to communicate with us, and they keep trying to tell us the coordinates to their planet. But nobody every understands it, so they just keep repeating it over and over again. Their eggs are actually a communication device, and when they lay them, they're communicating with their home planet.

The only thing they haven't figured out is the not getting eaten part, I said, just before they called time.

They laughed periodically throughout the exercise, so I felt good about it. When I came out and Ian asked me if I'd had fun, I said honestly yes. I felt happy about how I'd done, and at that point, the decision was in their hands.

After the audition, I was in good spirits. When I went to meet up with The Gryphon at Starbucks, he was seated near the window, so I put my hands against the glass and made a pathetic face until he noticed me. I told him all about how things had gone.

We went home to change and let the dog out before going out to dinner. We wanted to try a place that a fellow Otakon staffer had recommended, an Ethiopian restaurant called Abyssinian, in the student district of West Philly.

I like to dress up to go out to dinner, but I was actually a bit overdressed for this place, even though I was just wearing a leather jacket with a nice top, a pair of dark straight-leg jeans and some high-heeled boots. The restaurant was very casual, filled with small families and students, as well as a couple elderly ladies.

The last time I ate Ethiopian food was a long time ago when a friend of mine still lived in Washington, D.C., near Dupont Circle. You eat it with your hands, using a flat bread to pick up the various entrees. The food was a little spicy, reminding me a bit of Indian food.

After that, we ran out to the local book store to look for a couple things. Of course, we found more than we planned and bought a little extra. But it was from the sale rack, so it didn't add up to much.

Then we came home, made a couple phone calls and hung out. The one irony of the evening was that there was one answering machine message waiting for me. I'd been told I would only receive a call if they wanted me to come back on Sunday for the second part of the audition, so when I saw a message had been left at 8:30, I thought it was then. Instead, it was some sort of computerized telemarketer who had the wrong number and was looking for a Don Wilson!

Ah, well. At least now I don't have to worry about shifting around my busy schedule to include a major time commitment in an already busy year. I'm proud of myself just for giving it a shot. To me, that's the true victory.

Copyright 2006 by Alyce Wilson

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