underwear
I'm taking an acting class at a nearby theatre that has a conservatory associated with it. It's the same theatre where I saw The History Boys last spring, which in and of itself explains my drive to return to it every week. Anyway, we're starting the semester with pantomimes that engage one of the five senses. Each person gets up, performs their three minutes, and then gets workshopped.
This week, someone did a pantomime in which his character was operating a sniper rifle. Of course, since it is a pantomime, the room is totally silent during our performances. At the very start of this sniper rifle business I half-noted a creaking sound. Without dividing my attention very far at all, I associated the sound quickly with the same noise that ensues from my hips when I twist my torso a certain way while wearing my favorite brown leather belt.
A minute and a half into the pantomime, however, I realized something important and felt like Nancy Drew, or Sherlock Holmes, or The Doctor.
The man was not wearing a belt. Jeans, t-shirt, fabric shoes--that is, not a visible piece of leather on his person. What's The Doctor's line? If you're a thing that ticks, what's the first thing you do? Break the clock, because no one thinks twice about one clock ticking, but two... you might start to think you weren't really alone... Now, I know it was hardly the fate of Madame de Pompadour at my feet during this incident, but I did get the inimitable pleasure of being able to spend the remainder of the class (and possibly the week) wondering,
What the hell kind of underwear are you wearing, son?!
This week, someone did a pantomime in which his character was operating a sniper rifle. Of course, since it is a pantomime, the room is totally silent during our performances. At the very start of this sniper rifle business I half-noted a creaking sound. Without dividing my attention very far at all, I associated the sound quickly with the same noise that ensues from my hips when I twist my torso a certain way while wearing my favorite brown leather belt.
A minute and a half into the pantomime, however, I realized something important and felt like Nancy Drew, or Sherlock Holmes, or The Doctor.
The man was not wearing a belt. Jeans, t-shirt, fabric shoes--that is, not a visible piece of leather on his person. What's The Doctor's line? If you're a thing that ticks, what's the first thing you do? Break the clock, because no one thinks twice about one clock ticking, but two... you might start to think you weren't really alone... Now, I know it was hardly the fate of Madame de Pompadour at my feet during this incident, but I did get the inimitable pleasure of being able to spend the remainder of the class (and possibly the week) wondering,
What the hell kind of underwear are you wearing, son?!