Once upon a time, I was rehearsing a show. We had done the first day of music rehearsal, and everything was going great. The cast was talented, the director was great. We were going to have a hit on our hands! Nothing could stop us, until one of the actors got a headache.
Not a big deal really. It was our first blocking rehearsal, so everyone was pretty busy. One of the actresses in the cast told him to just go into her purse and get some Tylenol. We all went about our business until poor headache dude started to act really strangely. He couldn’t quite figure out what blocking meant. And that’s when the purse lady turned sheet white and ran for her bag.
We saw her in the corner, looking frantic for a moment before sneaking up to the director. She whispered into the director’s ear, “He took two Vicodin by accident. He’s high. I’m sorry.” She walked away with the look of a person who was sure they were going to be fired. The director said nothing. He didn’t even acknowledge that the purse lady had said anything, or that the poor headache dude was high and pretty near drooling on himself. We kept going with rehearsal, blocking most of act one, but somehow headache dude could never quite remember where he was supposed to stand during act one.