Number two

Now that the play is over, I feel an overwhelming urge to unburden myself and gossip about one of the more irksome members of the cast. For the sake of convenience and to convey certain nuances of his character, let’s call him “Richard” – or “Mr Head”, if you prefer.

Mr Head is one of those rare specimens who can annoy just about everybody within a ten-yard radius without ever intentionally meaning to. He seems to suffer from an obscure form of Tourette’s Syndrome that involves him instantly blurting out whatever pops into his head without due concern for the consequences. It’s almost as if he has an extreme aversion to any thought taking up residence in his cortex, so he needs to get it out as quickly as possible.

He’s a reasonably competent actor*, but he spends so much time in the dressing room fiddling with his makeup and preening in front of the mirror with his shirt off, that he’s managed to miss his entrance on more than one occasion. It’s irritating enough having to ad-lib on stage to fill an awkward silence without the sure knowledge that the person you’re waiting for is too busy squeezing his pecs and rubbing his nipples to pay attention.

As I explained to one of the others, “Mr Head is like a laxative – fine in small doses, but prolonged exposure really gives you the shits”

* IMHO

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20 thoughts on “Number two

  1. How odd – you mean he is so in love with himself that he’d rather look in the mirror than be on stage – isn’t that odd in an actor?

    Or is it some sort of displacement actitivity? (whoops that was a freudian slippage that I’ll leave in 😉

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  2. andrea: You had me worried for a moment there. I’m not ready for the RCMP just yet.

    tripeak: And if you don’t, then it’s you.

    Caroline: I believe all actors have an element of self-worship in them. Dicky Boy just has an extreme case. BTW, your Freudian slip is impressivly multi-level. I’m glad you left it in 🙂

    Terri: I’m afraid so. To ensure that it didn’t happen again, every night someone would go and hiss in his ear, “Get on the stage, Dick Head!”.

    Ol’ Hoss: A fine idea, but we’d need a projector to be able to convey the full impact of yours.

    Tammy: The stage manager very nearly made him the demonstration model for ars longa vita brevis.

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  3. Oh God he sounds like my recent ex.

    PS: This isn’t necessarily a good thing. I may be sad over the breakup, but the squeezing of one’s nipples and pecks does get tiresome. Especially in the bedroom.

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  4. Read a book recently about a little-known syndrome called Asperger’s Syndrome, which is basically a very mild form of Autism – I’m no doctor but I think I’ve nailed it on the head!

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  5. To use the sort of term that ‘glitter for brains’ would use, he sounds like he may be a man ‘with an appreciation for show tunes’ and ‘an appreciation for colour co-ordination’.

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  6. Spookie: Worth a thousand words. All of them bad.

    Peas: I agree. Those talents are generally put to better use.

    Third World Ant: If you’re volunteering to hit someone on the head…

    Reluctant Nomad: Possibly, but I think he’s too much of an oaf.

    Chitty: The ceiling is very high.

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  7. 3T: Borrow away 🙂

    angel: That would only work if we had individual dressing rooms, but since we all share, it would throw a minor spanner in the works for the rest of us.

    Miss Cellania: It was a good run, because we all emerged with our sanity intact. The reviews were all over the spectrum – good, bad and indifferent. It wasn’t exactly a hit (about 60% average seat occupancy), but not too bad for a ‘serious’ winter show. It was the most fun I’ve had on stage since doing ’12th Night’ in 2001.

    Zube Girl: Maybe there’s a support group for it.

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  8. How about placing a stink-
    bomb under the cushion of
    his dressing room chair !?!
    That,ll make him sprint!
    PRO & EDEL.

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