from THE DOUBLE R DINER BLOG:
The Double R Diner is proud to present this guest post from Abby Fudor, a Pittsburgh-based improviser and world-class friend. Abby is one of the funniest people I’ve ever known, and more importantly one of the BEST people I’ve ever known, and she shouldn’t have to put up with the stuff that prompted her to write this post. We’re happy to have her, even though we wish she had a better reason to be writing here.
Last month, something happened that fueled me, for the first time in about 6 years of doing improv comedy, and about 28 years of being a lady person, to pause, reflect, and write down some thoughts about those two aspects of my life crashing together so often and so significantly as of late.
I entered an improv scene, said about one line of dialogue, and the guy on stage closest to me responded to this by miming punching me in the face while calling me a “cunt.”
Wait, let’s back up a little. What is improv comedy you ask? Do you ask that? I don’t know, but in case you do: there are lots of formats, lots of definitions you can find out there. It would take me a lot more time and energy than I think is necessary for this personal account of a jarring incident to really launch into a full-blown discourse over the artform, but I’m happy to recommend this book, point toward this blog, and show you this photo to give you a general idea of what I’m talking about here:
I perform pretty much weekly at the Pittsburgh Improv Jam in downtown Pittsburgh. I’ve been doing improv there for over a year, with generally the same group of people each week. The idea behind this show is that a lot of improv performers in the city are members of various troupes; this is a night for us “pros” (ooof) to come together, putting aside our conflicting money-makers that occur other nights of the week to just “play” together. Picture Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson having fun shooting hoops together in between bouts. Now picture them taking one-word suggestions and pretending to be other people. [And while you imagining things, go ahead and imagine I could come up with a decent sports reference after the year of 1988.]
Read the rest of the blog HERE...
Culture. Feminism. Damn fine coffee.
Conversations by Robin & Ramona over pie and coffee.