Well, I have lots of them these days. Five a week to be exact. And last night, as are many nights, is a night worth retelling.
Working at an Improv theatre, not only are our patrons interesting, but I seem to have a penchant for drawing only the most unusual volunteers. See, we don’t pay everyone who works there, hell - sometimes I have to wait a week for a paycheck. We’re not flush and we’re just trying to survive, so we blatantly use volunteers to handle the concessions and the theatre cleaning after the shows.
Last night saw the return of my most unusual volunteer. I shall call him… KungFuRoger because it seems only fitting.
He was a serendipitous find on a night I was short staffed. He literally walked into the theatre box office a few hours before show time, asked about the theatre and immediately wanted to get involved. I got him to volunteer that evening, so he left and came back at the appointed time.
KungFuRoger is a college kid, Asian and when I first met him he had a very faint fu-man-chu with a pony tail. Of people who come to an improv comedy theatre and try to get involved, everyone tries to be funny and interesting. It’s something in the water, but the theatre attracts a very unusual cross-section of society. We have businessmen, entrepreneurs, ex-military, starlets, hopefuls and… the rest.
That first evening he was wearing black jeans, work boots, and a dark grey t-shirt with pictures of about thirty knives on it. Knives range from butter knife up to Crocodile-Dundee-penis-enlargement™ knife. Not the clothes I would have asked for him to wear to work in the front of house, but beggars can’t be choosers. I get one of our more established volunteers to man the cash register and appoint KungFuRoger to be the gopher, grabbing whatever the customer asked for.
At 9pm I started the show and step back into the lobby, where the concessions are located, and I spy KungFuRoger talking to himself. As it turns out, he isn’t talking to himself. This guy is having a full conversation with our Sobe display case. He’s asking each flavor of Sobe to make an argument as to why he should drink them. He’s not talking and looking around hoping someone is watching, he’s not laughing and putting on a show for anyone else. At this point the lobby is empty with myself, and our cashier and him. And he’s doing it for himself.
That was how I first met and remembered KungFuRoger. He worked a few more days over the next two weeks and then disappeared.
It’s how it goes. Newcomers will last for a while and then usually lose interest when they discover that we don’t have talent scouts for Second City and The Groundlings roving our lobby looking for our next big talent. We’re a small theatre and you work it because you love it. And most newcomers don’t stick around unless they immediately find their niche or unless they get into classes. I just assumed KungFuRoger was one of those who we lost through attrition.
So last night, who walks through the door but the missing KungFuRoger. He’s dressed in an Asian style top with its Mandarin collar and long sleeves, remember that as it becomes important.
It’s another slow night with few extra hands so KungFuRoger ends up being a help getting set up, but the moment I don’t have something for him to do he begins getting bored. He would make nonsensical statements. He would talk to himself. He used our Slim Jims as drum sticks, but not just to work out energy, he was looking for music to be made by setting up faux drum sets out of M&Ms and Snickers and the cash register and the drink coolers.
At various lulls I engage him in conversation, I try to bring them into the fold and all - but this guy is just weird.
IG: So what’s your dream job man?
KFR: What? I’m just so bored… (Thinking I meant his dream job in the theatre.)
IG: No, I mean in life. What do you want to do?
KFR: Something that lets me be weird. I mean I’d love to do computer graphics or art, though I can’t draw. And I would love to do movies, but I dunno…
IG: Something that lets you be weird? You can be weird doing anything?
KFR: Yeah but I want to spread my weirdness like a disease… I want to plague the world.
IG: Right…
At this point I break off and disappear into the box office hole that is my office so that I can shuffle papers and look busy.
He has these sort of conversations all the time. Anything we say to him, any conversation we get into, devolves into this weird stream of consciousness babbling.
KFR: I should wash this? (indicating his shirt/jacket thing)
IG: Sorry, no washer here.
KFR: Oh I know, I meant at home. I’m just afraid it’ll fade.
IG: Use warm water and color safe detergent.
KFR: Well yeah… but see also this collar detaches and I’m afraid the laundry machine will steal it.
IG: So safety pin it to the shirt…
KFR: What!? Put metal in the washer? I can’t do that! It’ll cause the world to end! I need this shirt for class tomorrow. I found socks under the spinny thing in the Washer, I’m convinced there are more down there.
IG: (cue exit)
This poor guy. He’s trying so hard and I just can’t figure out if he is just this fucking nuts or if he is putting on a grand show to try and be interesting in a sea of theatre people…
Throughout the night I had other employees and volunteers telling me how crazy this kid is. Just truly absolutely bonkers. People who usually go unruffled by anyone end up grabbing me and pulling me aside to tell me that this guy has a major malfunction.
The truth is that we see people like KungFuRoger all the time. As I said, people come in and try to make an impression and show how cool they are, but they end up just looking like fools. KungFuRoger isn’t any different, he’s just going 90 miles an hour whereas most newbies spin tires at 30 miles an hour.
I was going to talk to him privately last night and try to calm him down some. I’m 90% sure that it’s just an act. I’m hoping that KungFuRoger is just a facade and there is a much calmer more normal person inside. But then what if there isn’t?
He’s in college so he’s pretty busy, but I wonder when I’ll see KungFuRoger next.
– IG