On the subject of Being Misunderstood

"I'm just a soul whose intentions are good,

Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood."

     - song by Santa Esmeralda

Tonight in improv class, I reached a new low. No, I have been bad before, but tonight, the interpretation by the audience of my characters went down faster than the stock market in the last two days.

In the first scene, Erika and I were playing a two people being confronted by a hippo. The game was called "Oh, I know what this scene is about." The object was when an audience member has an idea of what the scene is "really" about, they stop the scene and give their interpretation.

The scene began, and I was hiding behind the demure Erika acting terrified but curious about the hippo. It took almost no time before a classmate stopped the scene and said "Jon is a creepy guy who has the hots for her." Oh, great. That's what they got out of my character. (I was playing a scared kid using his friend as a human shield.) Instead - creep! Won-der-ful. 

So we restarted the scene and I began to just get creepy, as in overly creepy as in lecherously creepy. It all ended when I went to the place where I am most uncomfortable - as a sexist pig looking for some... or in the case of where the scene went... some with more than one. Sheesh, let the dominoes fall.

Later in the night, we were given suggestions a character that we had to play blindly and independently from our scene partner until the cue to interact would force us to figure out what the other was doing.

I was told that I was nervously dancing. It was the one character I actually understood all night. My thought was that I was a bride getting ready for her wedding day. As is usual with improv, what it ended up being was a daughter who ruined her father's painting only to have her dog killed.

It was the most normal scene of the night for me, as in the next round, the ultimate in misunderstanding would occur.

I was playing a scene with... well, I am withholding the name and you will understand why in a minute. The suggestion given to me was to be a guy who was so sleepy that he couldn't stop from falling asleep while watching TV.  I sat down and assumed the Al Bundy position, with a hand slightly under my belt line and the other miming a remote. My scene partner was a woman putting on makeup as thought she was preparing for a night out. The scene took the direction that I saw the woman on TV, "Janice" who had beaten out my scene partner as homecoming queen, and when I flipped the channel on, I said "and oh yeah, she's had a boob job." Lots of laughs from the audience.

The scene broke down into an angry spouse laying into the husband, but I never left my position that I had assumed at the scene's genesis. The ending featured me with "Janice's lipstick on my collar," and saying that "I liked the taste of her cherry chapstick." The scene ended with my partner saying, "yeah, I did too." And, Sceeeeeeeene!

After the scene, our teacher asked us for comments about the scene. My partner looked straight at me and said, "were you m...????" I can't type what she actually said here. She was asking if I was dancing with myself to um... be tactful.

It was at this point where I hit a new low. Now, classmates (most of whom are women) are now assuming I am going to play a pervert, which is not my nature. Two scenes with references to couples who were actually a trio and one case of an imaginary lover on stage. Dr. Freud - line one.

While I was somewhat embarrassed, it was more a silly thing. I didn't take it personally, but the theme of my evening was not what I expected.

So I am hoping next week to get back to my physical comedy and playing childlike characters, because playing a grown up tonight was not exactly rated PG. More like a pirate-like RRRRRRRR!

Good night, you silly classmates,

Yours truly,

Johnny Blogger