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So I was waiting for a call from Serge yesterday. You may recall I mentioned Serge as a guy I liked but who, in a horror movie, would throw me to the monster to save his own ass? Mr. Cooper, right? He was supposed to call me a week before class to give me my first assignment, that goddamn three-minute pantomime again. Well, no call yesterday. But I wake up this morning to see a message on my cell phone.
Now, I don't know how many of you know what my voice-mail message says. If you call up my cell phone and I'm not there, you'll hear the following, delivered by me in my friendliest "reception lady" tone:
"Hello, you've reached the sovereign nation of Latveria. We're sorry, but his highness Lord Doom is out at the moment, possibly on matters of state, or more likely plotting to overthrow your very way of life. If you would like to leave a message for Lord Doom or his Vice Chancellor John Hefner, please do so at the beep of the Doombot. Thank you, and Curse Richards."
That has been my message for the past two years. I know I really should change it, especially since it's too long and hardly business-like should any major theatres call me up for auditions or something. So it's with a certain about of trepidation that I realize that Serge has heard this.
I go to my voice-mail and hear the following message:
"Ahahaha, heh, wow. That is an awesome Fantastic Four message. I used to be a huge fan. Heh, hi, John it's Serge, just calling to give you the first assignment of class, so call me back. Thanks."
When I did finally speak to him, he told me that his closet was packed with FF and Spider-Man comics from the 70's and that growing up, they were his gods. I mentioned that I worked at a comic shop, and even though I couldn't see him, I swear his eyes must have lit up. "Really?!" I had to break it to him that our store doesn't buy comics, but maybe I could appraise them for him, which we rarely do for anyone.
And then he gave me the damn assignment. As if I'd never taken the class before and delivered rote, he said I was to do a three minute pantomime with a beginning, middle, and end, focusing on one of the five senses. Did I mention how much I fucking hated the pantomimes the first time around? Not the doing them, but just because I hate hate HATE trying to think up story ideas for them. It drives me nuts and stresses me out like crazy.
Although the first class with be on Valentine's Day, so who knows, maybe I could work some topical matter into whatever I do. If I had experience with anything, it's heartache. Heartache and comic books, and for that latter part especially, this class has just gotten a lot more interesting.
Serge is a (literal?) closeted comic geek, albeit one who "grew up." As a comic fan, there are few things sadder than that. Yet from his reaction toward my message, perhaps there's still a bit of the ol' fanboy in him after all. Not that this means he'll probably go any easier on me, oh, hell no. But it certainly gives my own private Captain Rhodes a new layer, that's for sure.
Now, I don't know how many of you know what my voice-mail message says. If you call up my cell phone and I'm not there, you'll hear the following, delivered by me in my friendliest "reception lady" tone:
"Hello, you've reached the sovereign nation of Latveria. We're sorry, but his highness Lord Doom is out at the moment, possibly on matters of state, or more likely plotting to overthrow your very way of life. If you would like to leave a message for Lord Doom or his Vice Chancellor John Hefner, please do so at the beep of the Doombot. Thank you, and Curse Richards."
That has been my message for the past two years. I know I really should change it, especially since it's too long and hardly business-like should any major theatres call me up for auditions or something. So it's with a certain about of trepidation that I realize that Serge has heard this.
I go to my voice-mail and hear the following message:
"Ahahaha, heh, wow. That is an awesome Fantastic Four message. I used to be a huge fan. Heh, hi, John it's Serge, just calling to give you the first assignment of class, so call me back. Thanks."
When I did finally speak to him, he told me that his closet was packed with FF and Spider-Man comics from the 70's and that growing up, they were his gods. I mentioned that I worked at a comic shop, and even though I couldn't see him, I swear his eyes must have lit up. "Really?!" I had to break it to him that our store doesn't buy comics, but maybe I could appraise them for him, which we rarely do for anyone.
And then he gave me the damn assignment. As if I'd never taken the class before and delivered rote, he said I was to do a three minute pantomime with a beginning, middle, and end, focusing on one of the five senses. Did I mention how much I fucking hated the pantomimes the first time around? Not the doing them, but just because I hate hate HATE trying to think up story ideas for them. It drives me nuts and stresses me out like crazy.
Although the first class with be on Valentine's Day, so who knows, maybe I could work some topical matter into whatever I do. If I had experience with anything, it's heartache. Heartache and comic books, and for that latter part especially, this class has just gotten a lot more interesting.
Serge is a (literal?) closeted comic geek, albeit one who "grew up." As a comic fan, there are few things sadder than that. Yet from his reaction toward my message, perhaps there's still a bit of the ol' fanboy in him after all. Not that this means he'll probably go any easier on me, oh, hell no. But it certainly gives my own private Captain Rhodes a new layer, that's for sure.
