Electrolicious

Last night’s Salon of Shame was not without its challenges (the theater was being remodeled and there was wet paint everywhere and a marked lack of seating), but it still managed to be an amazing show. And I say that despite the fact that I was sick and watching it all the a drugged haze of TheraFlu.

We started things off with a gift. See, a few months back, the sound guy assigned to make sure our microphone works started playing music between readers. It wasn’t something we’d asked him to do, but his music choices are always hilarious and spot-on and he’s totally become a part of the show! So last night, to thank him for going above and beyond his “anonymous sound guy” duties, we gave him a DJ Jason tshirt, which reads “I’m the selecta of the soundtrack of shame” across the back.

The readings were all fabulous, but the final reader had to be my favorite. Marne pretty much blew the whole place down when she stood up and uttered these words: “I’d like to read my fifth grade book report entitled, Why it’s good and bad to be Anne Frank.” One fine reader took excellent notes.

Next show is May 13th, for those keeping track.

I got a call yesterday at 2 from Capitol Hill Arts Center saying that they’d double booked the theater where we normally do the Salon of Shame, and so they were bumping us into their larger, upstairs space.

In a panic (our usual 100ish people were going to feel pretty agoraphobic in such a huge space), I did a last minute press scramble — letting everyone know that this would be the show to come to, as there was no way it would sell out.

(Do you see where I’m going with this?)

We opened doors at 6:45, and as the space started to fill, every few minutes I would run out to the lobby to see how things were going. And despite two and then three people working the door, every time I checked, there was a line. 7pm: Line out the door. 7:15: line out the door. 7:30: line. Extra chairs were fetched. People sat against the wall. At a certain point I had to get up on stage and make people play the “Raise your hand if there’s a seat next to you!” game.

I also had to ask “Who remembers the show we did where only 8 people showed up and we only had two readers?” One hand went up.

And yet somehow we managed to get just about everyone in, even my former coworker who showed up at 7:45 to my chastisement of “Not only are we sold out, but you’re fifteen fucking minutes late.” Even he got in, although he didn’t get a seat. A couple people showed up even later and were turned away. At that point, it’s not about sold out — it’s about being on time.

Last night’s Salon ended up like the a marathon of funny: the biggest show (door count musta been around 200), the most readers (16?), and the longest running time — almost three hours.

We had some of my favorite readers of all time, especially Marc’s pre-gay Minnesota musings about a guy named Evan and his sexy ass.

That said, I’m just not sure the show works in that large a format (seems like readers feel more pressure to Perform!! in a venue that size), and we had waaaay too many readers, and wow, three hours is definitely too long. I’m seriously impressed with the audience’s laughter stamina.

But now I have to scurry back to my little planning place and make some decisions: Do we stay in the bigger space? How can we better enforce the five-minute reading time? How do we encourage folks to just read, not to perform or editorialize? How can I curate the show without making people audition? Do we add the a/v component with high school pictures of readers projected behind them?

… And how the fuck did I end up being the producer of a comedy show?!

PS: Here’s what the bloggers are saying about last night’s show.

Last week when I went to the Christmas Tree Burn with Daniel Talsky, he introduced me to Beth, who happens to be the volunteer coordinator at Consolidated Works, a massive arts center.

ConWorks was hosting this wacky Seattle theater festival called 14/48. Basically, 14 plays are written, cast, directed, rehearsed, and performed in 48 hours. It’s pretty cool. So, I went to volunteer, and lo and behold! A ton of the people who are working with ConWorks are old coworkers from my days at ENTROS. Crazy actors. Good to see all them again.

My assigned volunteer position was “Hall Monitor.” The bathrooms at ConWorks are up in this strange hallway which also holds the dressing rooms, and so it’s usually a little crazy up there, and apparently theater-goers frequently get lost on the way to the restroom and find themselves walking into dressing rooms. So, my job was to stand in the hallway and show people to the bathroom.

Perhaps that doesn’t sound like fun to you. I actually had a great time. “Around this corner, and then the second right. Looking for the bathroom, sir? Around this corner, then the third door on your right.” I got to talk to everyone. One guy stopped and said “Oh my god–is this your job?” Yes, it is, but unlike you, dumbass, I’m seeing this show for free! Third door on your right!

Surely the high point of the night had to be when a hurried looking guy wandered down the hallway. “Looking for the restrooms?” I chirped. He looked at me.

“I’m a director!” he hissed. Oh yeah, sorry man. There’s only, like, SEVEN plays (with SEVEN different directors) showing tonight. Third door on your right!

The plays themselves were of varing qualities. The theme was “Eco-terrorism,” and by far the best play involved the three men bitching simultaneously about car alarms, cigarettes, and cell phones. Brilliant. Also good was the one about the neurotic cubicle worker, terrified of all environmental work hazards. Regardless, considering all the plays were written last night, I’d say everything was pretty fucking good. Third door on the right!

Afterwards, I stayed for the cast party and caught up with my old friends. Got to hear about how Mark Baker was doing WaMu commercials, Jim Jewell is engaged, a former manager was fired for paying his ecstasy dealer with restaurant food, and reminisce with Shawn Belyea about working in Arizona in 1998. In fact, now that I think about it, the paycheck from my three weeks of work in Phoenix helped me buy this very computer that I’m using right now. Good times. Third door on the right!