Today was evidence: Murphy’s Law is real.
Class this morning consisted of Theatre History, which was interesting. Something to do with no one but the “stage manager” of sorts having the entire script, because there were no copyright laws, so if someone owned the entire script, they could sell it, so actors only had their own lines and cues. Then our Masterclass with a Theatre Critic. It was a little boring, since I don’t particularly care about theatre criticism, and he didn’t say how to become an actor, or what he looks for.
Today was also Tart Twednesday, so we got tarts. Fine. Yay.
Then acting. We did a super fun exercise where we had previously chosen a picture of someone we empathised with, then create a backstory for them, and we would sit in the hot seat for the class and they would ask us questions and we would answer as that character.
This was my character. Her name is Adelaide Warren, she is 27, the year is 1924. Born to Frank and Darling Miller, Darling died in childbirth. Her father is a wealthy banker. She left home at the age of 16 to become an actress in Hollywood, enamoured of Charlie Chaplin, and loving to play pretend. She is married to Calvin Warren, who gets along better with her father than with her. He is 34. She is having an affair with Jack Benjamin, 22. It was so much fun. I discovered so much about her through all those questions and created such a wonderful story. This is why I am an actor: to play pretend, and that’s what we did all day for three and half hours. I was in such a wonderful mood! Little did I know, everything would just collapse.
We had previously (as you know) taken an hour long tube ride with my computer to get tickets, which weren’t available due to ridiculous box office times, then taken the hour long tube ride back, only to go back tonight for the actual show after getting our tickets online. Right, so the show was at seven, our tickets were at the door. Tierney and I rushed home to drop off our stuff, and would meet Sienna there (she got out later than us). I think about checking my e mail before we leave, but that’s just wasted time. Nah…
As we’re rushing out of the flats, I see that I have a voice mail… I try to listen to it, but it’s incredibly quiet and I can’t hear anything. All I can make out is that it’s from the venue where the concert is being held. Probably just calling to confirm that we have tickets. It’s probably fine. Lots of tube delays, because God was trying to warn us to just STAY PUT! On our very roundabout way of getting to the Angel station, an hour away (because trains aren’t working), I finally manage to hear the message: due to an illness, the Hot Melts will not be playing. Well, OK… I don’t care about the Hot Melts, I paid to see the Darling Buds. We’re already half way there, and Sienna’s probably already there because she left before all the delays. When we FINALLY get to the Angel station, Sienna is nowhere to be found, nor can I get a hold of her because her number is “currently out of service”. Tierney is running off to the venue to see what the deal is, and if Sienna is there, I’m walking frantically around the tube station, to see if she’s there, and nothing. Tierney comes back empty handed, saying that this guy she spoke to said the whole show was canceled, but there were people in line. I call Sienna some more, nothing, we go down to the venue… Yup. It’s canceled. All of it. We walk back to the station, because now there’s the dilemma of finding Sienna. But hey, what’s this? A text? From Sienna? She’s at the venue?!
I finally get a hold of her, tell her to come back and that the show is canceled. At last, the three of us are together, but concert-less. We decide to go sit at a pub for a little while, since we’re all the way down here. An hour later, we make the hour trek back to Warwick Station. I morosely look on twitter what Jamie Campbell Bower has to say about the canceled show (because the venue is useless), and this is the kicker. The real cherry on top of the stupid sundae:
“Wearing a silly hat and a big chequered coat. En route to hyde park. X”
What’s this? Jamie is going to Hyde Park? I live so close to that! Scroll down…
“x marks the spot of tonight’s show 7.30 and freeeeeeeeeeeee!”
WHAT? FREE SHOW?
“Situation remedied. We will play an acoustic set somewhere in London today for free. Looking at Hyde park. Any takers? x”
Any other situation, save death, would be me at that concert. If I had checked my e mail before hand, if I had called the venue first, if we hadn’t stayed at that pub, even if we hadn’t originally gotten tickets! And of course, his last twitter was something about how good a show it was, and thanks to everyone who came and blah, blah freaking blah!
I had a nice half hour of yelling along with another girl in the program who had a similar disappointment tonight, and then watched Ricky Gervais… and I only feel slightly better. I still have a monologue to memorize.