The Director Sector

I step out of my car and stroll towards the theatre, hoping to find someone hungry enough to go grab a bite to eat with me. Sometimes there are people gathered around outside between classes, sometimes the sidewalk is empty. There’s a tree with four trunks that sprawl out where people gather to talk about their classes or their lives or their friends or their jobs or… well, anything else they want to talk about.

Today, the tree is empty, as is the sidewalk.

I open the doors and step inside. I shiver as the heat from inside rushes over me. It is freezing outside in late October. It’s just as cold as it should be, but since we’ve had some rather hot days recently, I find it hard to adjust to the new cold. No wonder nobody is outside.

I peek into the lobby and find Carl talking to the secretary. He sees me and yells out, “Your play has been approved!” I stop for a second, stunned. As I approach, he finishes his conversation and then turns to me.

“Your play has been approved,” he repeats. “Pending approval of rights, of course.”

“So I can do it if I can get the rights?”

“Right. Let me know what you find out. You need to find out how much royalties are, how much scripts are, and so on and so forth.” He waved his hand vaguely and rushed off to do whatever it is that department heads do in late October. A thought occurred to me as he was almost out the door.

“Hey Carl!” I cried. “What are the dates of the performances?”

“November 29 through December 1,” he calls back. The door closes behind him.

November 29. Today is October 28. That’s 32 days, minus weekends. I’ve got to get scripts and rights. There’s no way I can do this in this time frame. I have to find a cast, find a crew, and figure out a schedule. I haven’t even read the script in four months because Carl’s been ignoring my proposal.

I’m doomed.

But all hope is not lost. I scramble to track down my choices for crew: James for set, Kimberly for costumes, Adam for lights. James and Kimberly agree to do it, but Adam is nowhere to be found. I leave a message with the secretary.

I sprint to my car to rush home to email the publishing company. As I pass through the middle of town, my mind is racing. There is so much to do and so little time. I know this is going to be a stressful experience. But then I smile as the words of my cousin come back to me:

“If it ain’t theatre, it ain’t fun.”

I think about all that I have to do in the next 72 hour to get my show, The Faculty Room on the road to success.

Now this is fun.