Undisclosed - Zach Bo1inger
Dream: The Play
For some reason, my friend Alexandra comes out to my job site. She takes it upon herself to improve morale. Her first idea is to do skits one night. I never would have thought the guys here would be up for something that cheesy, but I guess they are really looking for some entertainment. They might be humoring her because she is a woman and we have so few of those out here.
The client finds out what she is doing and they want to brag to their bosses about how this site is doing a lot to keep the people here happy. Somehow, in mere moments, the activity goes from lame skits to a full production play. Everybody is getting really excited and the next thing I know, we're selling tickets. The client has been talking about this all through their company and building huge expectations.
Opening night comes, and this thing has been getting great reviews. I think that's kind of odd, because I have not even seen the play myself, but somehow the critics have. I mention this to Alex, about half an hour before curtain. "Nobody has seen it," she says, "I haven't even written the script yet."
"There's no script?" I'm panicked.
"It's okay," she says, "I've got it all planned out where people can read their lines and the audience will never know." This brings me a lot more comfort than it would in real life. She sits down at a computer and start writing the script. I start planning the logistics. In dream logic, half an hour is just enough time for her to write a script, which would be fine, but we have to print 25 copies for the cast and crew and that will take extra time. I rig up the computer so as she finishes each page, it print 25 copies of it. As she writes the script, I am trying to collate the 25 copies of the script. One of the client representatives sees me struggling with all the paper and decides he would like a copy of the script to review. So I go back and start printing a 26th copy of each page.
All this commotion is distracting her as she writes, and it starts taking longer for her to pound out the script. It's going to take her longer than half an hour. I start distributing what I have to the cast and crew. As the play starts, she will be writing the ending. The cast makes a half-assed attempt at a read-through ten minutes before curtain. Basically this only gives them enough time to figure out what side of the stage their entrances and exits will be. I'm just hoping she won't use any props in her script that we don't have.
The client who asked for a copy of the script approaches me with changes. I want to tell him how absurd it is to even think of making changes at this point, but then it occurs to me that it is absurd to be performing and writing the play at the same time. If I tell him how absurd he is, he might realize how messed up everything is. There's also the general rule that clients don't like to be told that they are wrong. I decide to listen to his suggestions and promise to follow them, even though I have every intention of pressing on with the original plan. The play starts while he is talking to me and I sit there wishing he had a fast-forward button since I can obviously comprehend his ideas faster than he can say them (which happens in real life, too, with the particular rep). I wrap up the conversation and go back over to Alex to see if more pages have printed. They have and I start going around handing them out.
I give the new material to as many people as I can, but some of the actors are on-stage. I'm hoping that she wrote a couple exits and entrances into the story for them so they can get the rest of the script. Just in case, I start thinking of ways to hide script pages in props and sneak them out onto the stage.
For a brief moment, it occurs to me I should take a look at the audience and see if they are enjoying the show. They are, and I can breathe normally again.
On that note, somebody knocked on my door in real life and woke me up.