Joey

Getting hoodwinked

 

I guess there’s always a first time for everything.

As I walk out the door, my bag thrown over my shoulder, I question my sanity in being strong-armed into joining Theo’s acting class.

Me, an actress?

Who the heck am I kidding?

I’ve never even considered acting or anything related to that profession. I think back to high school and the friends that I had who were in the drama and theater club. I admired their talents and the balls that it took to get up in front of people to perform, but not once had it appealed to me back then.

While it took a few days for Theo to truly convince me that this thing would just be for fun and I wasn’t obligated to sticking with it, the more he shared his passion for theater. The enthusiasm I saw present in his expression when he talked about his play and teaching the class, the more interested I became.

And dare I say, excited?

But now that the day had arrived and I’m heading to my first class, I am a ball of nerves. It reminds me of the first time I got up in front of a classroom as a teaching intern in my last year of college. Every cell in my body was on fire, my hands trembled in fear and my feet felt like they were weighted down with thousand-pound shackles.

Yet, I made it through and eventually taught my own classes. The thing is, that niggling anxiety still exists when I’m teaching. It’s not the butterflies that it once was, but now it’s more of a mole, digging into my belly, leaving these holes of emptiness.

Although this new adventure – being a student versus the teacher – is more thrilling than worrisome. Becoming a student of the theater arts is a completely new excitement and has me stepping into unfamiliar territory, one where I’ve had no training or prior experience, even though Theo keeps assuring me that no experience is the point.

He said that everyone was pretty much a novice, except for those that taught the class (himself and one other person), as well as the producer, the set director and other various key roles that were required. There may be a few students who have performed in the past, but otherwise, they are all exactly like me.

A newbie. An acting virgin. Someone cautiously stepping outside their comfort zone for the first time and onto a brightly lit stage.

Theo explained that he and his co-lead, I think he said her name was Birdie, would be instructing us on the mechanics of a play. We’d be in a classroom environment for a week. And from there, we’d work with partners on lines, and if we’re brave enough, try out for a role in the play.

In Theo’s play.

The one he wrote and will be directing and showcasing this summer.

I’ve enjoyed getting to know Theo over the last week. While my first impressions didn’t paint the greatest picture of who he is, the last few days he’s exposed a different side of him. One who listens, comforts and is great company.

And not bad to look at, either.

My stomach is in my toes as I open the glass-paneled door into the workshop studio off of Halsted Street in the Boys Town area, in the middle of the theater arts district. The building is just blocks away from the Second City location. As soon as I step inside, I’m immediately hit with the smell of mothballs and old, musty woodwork.

The door closes behind me and I come to a stop just inside the foyer trying to catch my barings. Worn, red carpet runs the length of the hallway on either side of me and there’s another door in front of me. I’m just about to turn around and head back out the door when I hear Theo’s voice - low and sensual, but with a lilt of excitement – call from the other direction.

“I’m so glad you came.”

“Well, that makes one of us, I guess,” I joke, walking through the door he’s holding open for me to enter. “You might be eating those words after today.”

His shoulders shake from the rumble of his laughter. It also sends sparks between my legs, which is ridiculous. I’ve got to get over this little infatuation I have for him. It’s a dead-end road.

“I have a feeling, Joey, that you’re going to love this class. Plus, I know the instructor is a pretty cool dude,” he laughs, stepping aside for me to enter through the door. “And then when it ends and you realize how much you enjoyed yourself, I can tell you ‘I told you so.’”

Theo guides me into a classroom-type room where in the middle sits a semi-circle of chairs. I grab a seat and set my purse down on the floor, as Theo wanders off to chat with some other people that have just walked in. Taking a deep breath and placing a practiced smile on my face, I scan the room at the people milling about, trying to identify if they are as nervous as I feel. I make eye-contact with a guy sitting across from me.

“Hello,” the very loud and conspicuous man bellows from across from me. “I’m Jonathan.”

He reaches a gigantic, hairy-knuckled hand out in front of him in formal introduction. I take it and give it a good squeeze.

“I’m Joey. Nice to meet you.”

He sits back down and the chair groans from his weight. He stretches his hand to the left to the petite woman at his side, a chair in between them, indicating they aren’t together. “This is Carla.”

I wave, since she seems reluctant to get up to shake hands.

“Hi Carla,” I say and she smiles and waves back.

A few minutes go by as a few other people start filing in, and finally Theo calls the class to order.

“Greetings everyone,” Theo says, his body clearly strumming with enthusiasm. “So glad you could all make it to our first Acting OUT workshop session. My name is Theo Crawford, and my partner in crime over there is Birdie Reimer.”

He points to a tall, willowy woman whom I hadn’t noticed yet standing over by the windows overlooking another old brick building to the south.

She says hello and everyone else chimes their greetings in return.

Theo continues with some history of how this theater group was established fifteen years ago, a little about own his acting and writing credentials – which come as a surprise to me, since he’s been very modest with me up to this point - as well as some details about Birdie’s. Then we go around the room and introduce ourselves.

It doesn’t take too long in the grand scheme of things, as there’s only about twelve of us, however, one guy in particular is extra chatty. His name is Donald, but he told us to call him Proctor. Don’t know why, because it’s not his last name. But whatever.

The line finally gets to me, and I inhale a breath and blow out my nerves.

“Hey everyone, my name is Joey Hughes. I’m a high school teacher and so I’m here to try something different this summer. And, truth-be-told, I was kind of hoodwinked into this.”

I give Theo a meaningful stare that only he would understand and he just smirks.

“Thank you, Joey. I’m sure I speak for the class when I say we’re glad you’re here. Now, let’s walk through the course syllabus and talk through what to expect for the next six weeks.”

And with that, my first foray into the theater world begins.

No bright shining lights or my name on the marquee, but with a side-eyed look from my temporary neighbor.

And very handsome course instructor.

Whom I can never have.