Sweet Drunk Guy

February 23rd, 2006

At last night's performance (I'm at the Rubicon Theatre in Ventura through March 5) there was a guy in the front row who was really into the show -- during the first act. But at intermission, his blood alcohol level must have crossed an important threshold, because at the start of the second act he was looking kind of green around the gills, leaning into the unfortunate young woman pinned between him and the wall. At some point, in a quiet moment, he let out this loud hiccup -- the kind of hiccup that in my childhood comic books would be depicted by an all-caps "--HIC!--" in a talk-balloon; quite impressive, really. A bit later he seemed to have drifted into blissful unconsciousness. But then, about halfway through the second act, where I re-enact a fairly intense conversation between myself and my mom, the guy woke up -- and, apparently deciding that he was rejoining a conversation between me and him, he began talking back to my character, in a quite impassioned (though incoherent) manner. Fortunately, this social interaction exhausted him so much that he immediately fell back asleep. But as it turns out, he was merely conserving himself for the climax of my show -- where, during a very pregnant pause, he let out a perfectly timed -- and amazingly resonant -- snore.

Now, you'd think this kind of behavior would bother me. And maybe in other circumstances it would've. But I have to tell you, wherever this guy was, in his pickled subconscious, he was in a happy place. I mean, smiling beatifically! He was getting a great show -- bits of it mine -- and who was I to begrudge him that experience?

Plus, he didn't throw up on the set -- bonus!

Entry Filed under: let's digress


  • 1. kim  |  March 3rd, 2006 at 8:58 am

    I was at the show last night. There was a woman in the front row who had her head tilted up and a smile on her face, but her eyes were closed. Sometimes you just can’t keep your eyes open, you know? ha ha! I could tell she was listening, though.

    I enjoyed the show. I especially liked your rendition of Claude. And I loved the little musical chords where you would stop and make a funny face. I love funny faces! It makes me wish I were Jewish, ha ha! I was a little disappointed at the end, though. I thought there would be more of a revelation about your relationship with your father. The part in the play where you said. “I miss him. I miss him!” was heart wrenching. I felt like “I miss him, too!” I wanted there to be that reconciliation that you wanted.

    The Rubicon is a great place. We’re kind of a provincial town, so it’s fabulous to have this theatre in town. Thanks for coming!

  • 2. Josh Kornbluth  |  March 5th, 2006 at 1:33 am

    Thank you for your kind message, Kim — and for coming out to see me at the Rubicon. The point you make about the ending is a very wise one: I know that I don’t really resolve my relationship with my father in this piece; I’m beginning to think that achieving such a resolution may take a lifetime, at least. Take care.

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