Playing Around

Have to pack my bag.  Catching the early train to Sydney tomorrow, and tomorrow night, my cousin-in-law and I are going to see a play at one of the drama houses in the Sydney Opera House.  I haven't seen a show there in yonks.  I think the last play I saw there was in 1988, and it was a production of 'Don's Party'.  I do love theatre.  Used to see plays all the time when I was in my early twenties, both well known productions along the lines of the Sydney Theatre Company, as well as some more avant garde stuff.  I remember going along to the Nimrod or Belvior Street one night and watching some utter atrocity - truly, I felt sorry for the actors.  A few years after I saw it, I was working at a law office and one of the solicitors mentioned he was mates with this particular actor.  I said to mention this shitful play.  One morning, he said he brought up the subject of that play with his friend, and his friend did not enjoy being reminded.  The solicitor said, 'Well, I won't tell you what my secretary thought of it.'  Anyway, I remember the storyline (hah!) involved the two leads enjoying making what can best be described as 'violent love', and want can more honestly be described as 'unerotic total bullshit'.  They groped and pawed each other, and the lead actress simulated a knee to the jatz crackers of the lead actor.  He sagged against the wall, and sank to the floor, acting pain (as opposed to some stupid impression of a tree).  She ran from the set, and he caught his breath and yelled, 'HARDER!'  In the small theatre, I sat in my chair laughing helplessly at the total unbelievable stupidity of it all.  The friend with whom I was attending, another wannabe writer like I then was, whispered, 'Simone, I don't think it's meant to be comedy!' 

The silliest part of all was when one of the actors stripped off, and for his sake (as well as his wife's) I do hope that stage was cold, if you get my drift.  He said to another character, 'Mate, I've only got this!' and squeezed the small acorn - oh hang on, that was his penis.  The second silliest part was when another actor stripped off, and was slammed repeatedly and violently into a wall.  All part of the alleged plot, but the problem was, with each slam, his body would stop but the shockwaves and vibrations made his penis twitch.  And twitch.  And twitch some more.  What was meant to be a powerful scene did lose impact somewhat.  And just as the scene lost impact, I lost about two hours of my life viewing the drivel.  I wondered afterwards whether to storm the box office and demand a refund.

Some time later, when I was planning on seeing another production at the same venue, I mentioned to some work colleagues I had scene a play there with two naked men.  So help me God, readers, this brain-dead fool with whom I worked interpreted this to mean I had walked into the theatre with two naked men accompanying me.  I sincerely hope for the sake of mankind she has had herself sterilised.

Anyway, a bag is to be packed, an alarm clock is to be set, and a bed is to be climbed into.  Tomorrow it is off to the the-ay-ter for me.