"You guys got funny faces."

Kelly and I went to an improv class last night. We took the Metro into DC at a time when most people were leaving. We stopped to get coffee because we were both out of it; I chugged mine and then hers and felt almost human as we approached the regal building at the corner of 13th and V. Some guys were holding the door open, but Kelly said "Keep walking, we'll pretend we're going somewhere else and just come back." I kept walking. She grabbed my sleeve and said "Let's go in."

We waited in the lobby of the children's school for the arts until we were finally led, single-file, downstairs to an empty room where we waited some more. Kelly and I went on an adventure to find the bathroom, which was delightfully bright.
The toilets were so close to the ground, my knees hit my jaw as I sat down. The urinals, I saw as I walked by the Boys' Room, were on the floor.

We lined up in the hall and the teacher actually asked, "Does anyone have to go to the bathroom?" before we were led back down a hallway, up two flights of stairs, and into a different classroom. It was decorated with what looked like mug-shots done on a black and white copier, unidentifiable paper-mâché sculptures, and white boards covered in simple math problems. Also included on the walls were:

Who frowns when touching private parts?! And why is dancing bad, but high 5s are ok? High 5s can potentially be very dangerous... Crazy ass school.


HOW COME NO ONE READ OR WRITE POETRY ANYMORE
In class, we went around the circle and shared a little about ourselves, then went back around and associated a motion with our names. One girl, for example, loved to dance. "Stephanie!" she'd say, while performing a twisty little dance step. "Stephanie!" we'd repeat, and mimic her step. I thought and I thought and I thought, and by the time it was my turn, I was still clueless. "Allison!" I yelled, shooting my hand-guns (literally) up into the ceiling as if I were Yosemite Sam. "Allison!" everyone else yelled, and fired holes into the sponge-y acoustic tiles. Memphian 4 Lyfe.

We did a lot of exercises that helped me learn, and overall, though I was extremely outside of my comfort zone, I loved it. I love that I actually went through with it. I love that I talked to people I'd never ever meet in any other circumstance. I love that I stood in front of them and made a total ass of myself. I love the feeling that hit me several times throughout the class, the revelation of "I can DO this!"

I can pinpoint the things I did wrong, what I'd change if I had another chance - I think that's pretty good for my first attempt. We ran into a fellow student at the Metro station, who said "You guys were fantastic!" Kelly and I talked nonstop on the ride home, and plans are being made.