18th
Is This About My Throat?
I’m in an acting class, predictably seated in the back. “It’s your turn to do the scene. Put this blindfold on and this colonial-style dress.” I do, I act the whole scene seated. I am required to kiss a leading man, who I can feel is covered in peanut butter and jelly. Over and over I have to do this, in service of the play, though I can feel each time that something like a glass insect is buzzing in the box, and that we are falling deeply in love, tender touchers! It is time for me to remove my blindfold, and I see that it’s been Woody Harrelson all along. He is nervous, dressed in shortpants, smooths them, coughs, he pleads - “attend every film festival you can.” Leaving, I find a baby bulldog and baby mutt swirling around on a dangerous bend in the road.
