Fortnight Be Crazy

Whew. It's been a while since I've blogged. I thought I would be more able to write more than I was actually able to with the festival gearing up on. But that didn't work out (the writing more, that is.)

Opened five shows in four days over the weekend. Overall they went pretty well. One show had an actor go up on her lines, but it sounds like most people didn't notice. A door broke during Heads, so I spent about 45 minutes holding it shut with my pinky in the hole where the knob goes. (I get to be stagehand for that one.) My hand was pretty sore afterwards.

For the most part things went smoothly. We could have used more help building. etc., but that's always the case. There were a couple of rough patches leading up to the openings. Most of which I saw coming.

When to step in or not is something I struggle with. In hindsight, there were two times I should have stepped in early and overridden the director, but I chose not to. I didn’t want to interfere more than necessary. So when the problems did surface, I really only had myself to blame for not correcting the issues far earlier.

One I didn’t see coming was the lumber coming in way later than I had thought it would on one of my build days. (On top of everything else, I also get to act as the resident TD.) I thought it would be there around noon and it got there around 6:30. It was okay, I thought, I’ve got another day so I’ll just work faster and make it up.

The next day I could get into build, the other thing I didn't see coming happened. The lady who tried to beat me up while I was loading in some lumber. Could have done without that one.

I parked the U-Haul van filled with lumber across the street from the church the theatre is in, and was downstairs putting some more wood away when I heard a lady screaming to "move your van."

I went up and she was circling the van, screaming. Her two kids were watching. She was furious that part of the sidewalk had been blocked. So after going around the van, she stopped to go off her rocker. After being screamed at for a bit, I decided I would not move the van and tried to ignore her. She threatened to call the cops on me, and wasn't pleased when I started to hand my phone to her, saying "call them. I'll move the van when they get here."

She was screaming about her kids' safety and how I had endangered them because part of the sidewalk was blocked. Yes, I did block some of the sidewalk, but they had gone around the parked van just fine with the five feet of clearance to get around. "Your kids got around just fine." I said, "In fact if you hadn’t stopped you'd probably be at Montrose by now. Is this really the example you want to set for your kids?"

I walked away and grabbed a couple of sticks of lumber and started carrying them in, figuring she would leave once I left. But I was wrong; she followed me into the church and tried to push me down the stairs while holding 2X4's. Luckily, I'm a pretty sturdy guy so I didn't go tumbling. . .

Once I got down and set the boards down, I looked and she was gone. "Whew" . . .

No, she wasn't gone; she had hopped into the cab of the van and was trying to drive it away. I had the keys, so when I came back out, she got out and took a swing at me. I dodged that, while her kids cheered her on. She then grabbed my glasses and threw them down the street. I went to open the door and she kicked me in the side. I turned towards her and she ran to the side of the van, grabbed the passenger side mirror, jumped up and held on to it until it broke off.

At that point I called the cops, holding her off with one hand while talking to 911 on the phone with the other. Once the cops were called she started to leave. I tried to keep there there until the cops arrived to fill out a police report--I wasn't about to pay for the mirror she broke--so rather than touching her, I grabbed her bicycle wheel to keep her from leaving. She started kicking again. I stood there holding a bicycle tire in one hand and looking the other direction while she kicked. After the third or fourth kick to the upper ribs, I felt my other hand start to make a fist. I let go of the tire as I knew in another kick or so I would probably hit back.

“I hope someday your kids will have an adult around to see how to act." I said as she screamed her way down the street.

Then I had to wait for the cops to show up to get a police report. Simple Battery was what they called it. I couldn't give an accurate description of her as it was all kind of a blur, and my glasses were thrown down the street for most of it. My ribs were sore for a day or so but I was okay.

It's an odd sort of helplessness. I wasn't powerless. Far from it, but I knew the consequences of fighting back would probably have ended up with her in the hospital and me in the back of a cop car. All I could do really is keep on getting kicked and punched until the cops got there. I mean, really, who wants to beat up a crazy lady in front of her kids.

Once she followed me into a church to attack me, I was pretty certain she wasn't going to be talked down. For the most part, I'm a complete believer in gender equality, but while she was kicking away I kinda wished she were a man. I couldn't bring myself to hit a woman. It it had been a dude I would have quickly ended the altercation and considered it self-defense.

Once the police officer arrived, I began telling her the story of what had happened. She had an odd look on her face, a look of someone who has seen everything, and is still surprised by what she's hearing. She asked if there were any witnesses and I pointed down the street to some city workers who had been there all day and may have seen it. I looked up and they were reenacting it for laughs.

It probably was funny to an onlooker, probably looked like an ant trying to move a rubber tree plant. “That woman is crazy” said the officer, “She did all that in front of her kids?”

So after finishing up there, I had to take the van back and explain why the mirror was broken off. They had to double check whether the insurance covered mirrors. Thankfully it did. The lady at the counter at U-Haul summed it up pretty well, “Bitch be crazy!” One of the actors pointed out to me the irony of a woman trying to beat me up while loading in for a women playwright’s festival.

So I lost pretty much an entire day of building, which led to things not getting done in the timeframe folks wanted.  Which lead to adults stomping around like a two-year old throwing a tantrum--something I'm intimately familiar with at this point.

All in all it was a pretty typical tech process, just multiplied by six. Lots of stress, not enough time, people freaking out, things breaking, etc. It was a rough couple of weeks. But after a handful of openings and a couple of days being able to see my kids again, it's all good. I'm really proud of the shows I've seen so far. (I watched the kids for some, so Jenn could run the ship.) One more opening on Thursday and the entire fest is up and running.

Lack of money, no-TD, logistical nightmares--not even a crazy trying to beat me up couldn't stop me from bringing these great plays to you. Check it out if you can.