Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Oh Thank Jesus.

Acting-class bathrooms and I have had irreconcilable differences. If I’m not venturing into a meth lab, I’m strolling through downtown Danang.

That’s until now. My improv 201 class comes with the cleanest, stocked bathrooms in all of showbiz. So clean and stocked, I don’t mind that the theater where they’re located pretentiously calls them “water closets.”

You may not think this is cause for celebration, but it is. A very quiet celebration, the kind that ensues shortly after the med cart goes by. These are the sort of bathrooms you imagine provocatively posed in the centerfolds of the journal for facilities.

Water closets, I throw rose petals at your feet.