October 7 – Day 31: It’s All Downhill From Here

I’ve now reached (and passed) the halfway point of my trip. From here on in, I’ll be counting down the days until I leave. As I predicted, in spite of the thousands of words I’ve written, it feels like it’s been about ten minutes, and I expect that the next month will also pass in the twinkling of an eye. While I’m glad that I’ve been going into such tedious detail (to keep the minutiae of the trip straight), I’m sad that it’s “almost” over. (But, c’mon; we haven’t even officially opened the show yet.)

Anyway, today was a shitty day, weather-wise. It’s been hot and humid all day (if overcast). Currently (1:30 Monday morning), it’s still 74 with 91% humidity. (There’s currently a 100% chance of about an inch of rain on Thursday—when Pidge arrives—and 77 degrees. It’s like being in Honduras.)

I wasn’t sure when I wanted to get to the theatre today. Our call was 1:30 (for a 2:15 show), but I figured I wanted to arrive between 12:30 and 12:45. I had breakfast at home, but stopped at the Starbucks at Avenue A and St Marks for a hot tea. (I don’t know why I go there; my order is never ready or has somehow gotten lost. It’s nearby, I guess is the reason …) I walked over to Astor Place, took the 6 uptown (without incident today), and then to the theatre. When I arrived, Trish was already in the dressing room doing her hair, so we chatted a bit. Everyone else showed up, one by one, and we had a great time just throwing stuff back and forth, talking, gossiping, and, well, bonding.

The show seemed to go reasonably well. The audience was very quiet, though, and even sure-fire things didn’t get much in the way of reactions. I was unhappy with my own performance (I felt rushed and like I was skating on the surface. That’s the funny thing about acting; a person can do the same things every day and get different reactions or feel different internally about what they’re doing. Even knowing I was feeling the way I was, and coming up with a deliberate plan to combat it [“Take your time!” “Listen!” “Don’t be canned!”), I still felt a little phony. Oh, well, even Olivier had off-nights.) When the show ended, we got a good hand, but it felt like they were ready to stop clapping (and did pretty quickly). It was good—I don’t think it’s ever going to be not good—and other people in the cast felt good about their work, so I guess it’s a matter of ya pays yer money and ya takes yer choice. (As I was leaving the theatre, an audience member congratulated me and we had a brief discussion where I tried to enlighten him on the differences between Rudolf Hess and Rudolf Hoess. I think he got it.) I hope to improve on Tuesday and the rest of the week by being aware of what can happen if I don’t give it everything.

 Rudolf Hess. Nazi bastard. Deputy Fuehrer.

Arrested in Scotland. 

Committed suicide in Spandau Prison.

Rudolf Hoess. Nazi bastard.

Ran Auschwitz. 

Hanged in Poland.

We broke pretty quickly after the show, and I decided to walk home, despite the weather. The humidity makes the heat feel all-enveloping, so even if I’d taken the subway, I probably would have felt the same. I wouldn’t have gotten any exercise, though.

My post-show plan was to do laundry. I could really have done it Monday—or any afternoon this week, given that only my evenings are spoken for from this point—but I wanted to get it out of the way. I thought about stopping at Target to get some detergent, but figured I had enough (which I did). I got home, stuffed my dirty laundry in its bag, and wondered if I should wash my jeans. Given the weather, I decided to change into my shorts, which turned out to be a mistake.

Under the best of circumstances, my shorts are loose (not my underwear; my shorts), and when I add my phone and wallet to the formula, it makes for droopy drawers. It got to the point where I had to grab the wallet in my pocket and hold it up to keep my pants from falling off. I went to the “other” laundromat (the one with the cards, since I didn’t have any quarters), which was far more crowded than usual or what I expected. I did find a couple of machines, though, so at least that went as expected.

I was trying to think of what to have for supper, and realized I was so close to Katz’s Delicatessen, I should finally go there. After I got everything about of the dryer, I headed down 1^st, crossed Houston, and saw Katz’s—and a line outside. I thought about leaving, but realized that it was probably going to be like this any time I went, so I stayed, despite wearing shorts that were threatening to fall down and having my laundry strapped to my back. (Considering that 90% of the people in the joint were tourists, I really didn’t give a rat’s ass what image I was presenting.) After being admitted and getting my ticket, I got into a (relatively) short line, finally got to the carver, ordered my pastrami on rye, got it, and left. Once I got outside, though, I put my wallet in my laundry bag and phone in my pastrami bag, so my shorts were more secure on the way home.

I was back in about ten minutes, unpacked the laundry, got a plate, unwrapped the sandwich, and turned on the Dodger game. Most of these went well, some did not. The sandwich itself was disappointing. The last three times I’ve gone to Katz’s, the sandwich has let me down. It used to be the gold standard (though that award has long since passed to Langer’s in Los Angeles), but now it’s just okay. The meat isn’t particularly flavorful, and is fatty in a non-savory way; it’s just kind of tough. The bread is bland (it needs to be toasted or re-baked, the way Langers’s is), and the pickles just taste of cucumber with no real sense of pickling. It pains me to write, but I may be done with Katz’s; I think it’s succumbed to its reputation rather than really trying.

 

Meh.

 

I ate the sandwich without gusto, briefly fell asleep during the game (as did the Dodger offense and pitching), and woke up when Pidge called. I finished the game, polished off the last three days of blog posts (all caught up again!), and plan to catch up on some TV and papers later, once I finish this.

I have a couple of errands tomorrow—and what promises to be an interesting show—but I’ll discuss all of that in due time.