This is gonna be a long post, I reckon, to make up for all the short updates I’ve been doing. It feels good to be writing again!
1. The Twitter Stripper.
A week or two ago I was walking to the bus stop from work, when I passed a young, attractive punk-ish looking girl walking a tiny dog and getting stuff out of her van. She wore black tights and leopard-skin bike shorts, and a big leather jacket and a “fuck you” sneer on her face. Needless to say, I was in love. As I passed by I wondered if she lived at the house next to us — an older looking brown house with Halloween decorations (tombstones, spiderwebs, etc) still affixed to the front lawn. It seemed like a perfect fit. But, alas, my poor social skills forbade me to talk to her. Besides, she might punch me in the face or something. She probably has a Billy Idol shrine in her closet.
So I passed her by.
The next day, on Twitter, I see this tweet from PDXPipeline:
Just saw Portland’s favorite exotic dancer, Malice,walking her mini Dobermans outside Creme. New hair color http://twitpic.com/1bge0
I, being a fan of pretty ladies, clicked the link. And guess who it is? It’s the punk lady from the other day! Crazy hair and leather jacket and all. I knew there was more to her than meets the eye (or less, I suppose, once she gets on stage…).
This led me to the following thought: What would I say to this woman if she was giving me a lapdance? I’ve always been the Embarrassed Guy at the strip club (and I’ve only been to a strip club once, so we’re talking 100% success rate[1. It was a Boise strip club, though — no actual nudity.]), and all I could imagine was how I’d try to work in that I knew she was a stripper from Twitter. Something like this:
SCENE: Strip club. JOSH, sitting in a chair in a private booth. MALICE enters, fully nude. She clutches a twenty dollar bill in her teeth.
MALICE. One of your friends bought you a lapdance, huh?
JOSH. It appears so.
She plops down on JOSH’S lap, begins to grind slowly.
JOSH. So, how are you?
MALICE. I’m good, baby. How are you feeling?
JOSH. I’m fine.
MALICE. Are you ready for me?
JOSH. Uh … yes?
Beat. MALICE is lapdancing, JOSH is looking awkward. He feels he must initiate some form of conversation, so that he can rise above the “average” lapdance receiver: the grimy dude with his front teeth missing or the fat trucker with the wicked mustache. So:
JOSH. You know, it’s funny…
JOSH. You live across the street from where I work.
MALICE. Oh yeah?
MALICE. That’s not very funny.
JOSH. I didn’t mean funny “ha ha,” I meant funny strange. But not strange strange, I mean–
MALICE (puts a finger to his lips). Shhhhh..
She continues to writhe on JOSH’S body, making all kinds of noises that would turn a regular man on. But JOSH is no regular man — he is a socially awkward nerd.
JOSH. I saw you on Twitter.
MALICE (sighs). What?
JOSH. I mean, I saw you at my work, right, but then later on I saw you on Twitter. That’s how I knew you were a stripper.
MALICE. What’s Twitter?
JOSH. It’s a social networking site. Like blogging, but only 140 character. Microblogging, they call it.
MALICE. Your time is up.
And that’s how I assume that would go.
2. The Introvert’s Penmanship
All of these stories, by the way, are linked by Twitter.
And this isn’t really a story, it’s just a theory I had while working today. Basically, my theory is that introverted people have bad handwriting, and extroverted people have good handwriting. Why? Because introverts don’t need attention from others. The most typical introvert characteristic is that they (we, I should say, I’m pretty introverted) feel drained after being around people for an extended period of time, while extroverts feel energized. Penmanship, I believe, is something that reflects this introvert/extrovert characteristic, because writing is ultimately viewed by other people. Introverts can’t be bothered to write well, I guess, is my ultimate point. Extroverts WANT to write well so that it (and they) look good to others, but introverts don’t care, because interaction with people isn’t important to them.
Something like that. The idea makes sense in my head, but the English language is lacking the words I need to express myself, heh.
3. The Pale-Faced Play Review
Perfection, the play I am currently in, has been featured in the Oregonian twice: once as a story about the meaning of the show itself, and now as a review. I can’t really tell if the reviewer enjoyed the play or not — he says it ventures too close to “melodrama” and is “emotionally overwrought,” both of which aren’t untrue, necessarily (the play deals with a heavy subject), but he doesn’t specifically say that those detract from the show itself. He insinuates it, of course, and insinuation is the reviewer’s best friend — the ability to say you hate something without saying outright that you hate it.
I don’t generally pay attention to play reviews. I know actors say this a lot, and while I will admit that I think it kicks ass when I get a good review, I don’t get all distraught if I get a bad one. I can tell if I’m in a bad show, and I’ve been in a couple[2. They were all in college, though, so it doesn’t count].
But in this review the guy said I was “intriguing” but looked “ghoulish” with my stage makeup and the stage lighting. I guess this must’ve distracted him from my acting ability. All I can think is that he added the “stage lighting” part because he must’ve realized, at some point in writing the review, that I can’t not be pale, and so he blamed it on something else. My makeup can’t save my paleness; it has to be the same shade as my face or else it looks like I got a terrible fake tan.
Anyway, it just bugged me because this is my first show and the review for the show is that my makeup/the lighting sucks. All the other castmates (save for Alex and Brian, who didn’t even get mentioned — what gives?!) got glowing reviews, but Josh is a pasty ghoul. Le sigh. I’m not planning on tanning any time soon, dude.
Helen, the playwright, is worried that the review will lower ticket sales, so we’re not sure if we’ll be playing past this Sunday. Honestly, the reviewer’s stance on the play itself is merited — it is a little melodramatic, but I don’t know what else it could be. It’s about sterilization of people, for Chrissakes! That’s a tragic thing, and this is a tragic play.
I guess we’ll see what happens this weekend. If you’re in Portland, you should come see the show! Here’s the website for more details.
And now to work on Test Comic comics and FAWM songs!