Tomorrow marks the beginning of the Melbourne International Arts Festival where acts from around the world will sing, play, and dance their way into people's hearts. Like any respectable city, the underground, hipster-types of Melbourne created a fringe festival of comedy, performance, and whatever-the-fuck-you-want-to-do-that-might-entertain/enlighten-someone.
Several years ago I jumped feet first into the fringe events in Edinburgh, and it remains one of my most memorable travel adventures. So, naturally, I jumped at the chance to see what the Melbourne (un)pretentious artistes had to offer.
Last week I attended my first Melbourne Fringe event - a free showcase of the best comedians performing during the festival. There were good acts, there were great acts, and there was one act in particular that BOMBED so bad I felt sorry for the poor guy (he almost literally ran off the stage - a powerwalk of sorts). All in all, though, it was a fantastic evening, and despite my looming exam this weekend, I made a promise to myself to check out more shows this week.
I met some friends around 7:00 last night to begin our triple-header of festival goodness. Up first was Love at Fast Sight - a farcical examination of the mating rituals of (wo)man. It could've been a little more creative, but it also could've been a lot less, and overall the hour show was pretty entertaining. A highlight, I might add, was when my friend Guy was selected to take part in a re-enactment of The Dating Game in which three audience members where forced on stage and blindfolded and asked suggestive questions by a transvestite. When asked the most romantic thing he's ever done for a woman, Guy began to respond, "Hmmm...." The trannie interrupted him before he get further and swooned, "I think I've heard enough!"
Next we revisited my old friend from last week Stephen K. Amos. Oh my god I'm in love with him. You can watch a brief clip from his performance at the Melbourne Comedy Festival here - sadly, he did most of those jokes at the free showcase and the show last night, but trust me he's way better than the clip shows. Some of his mannerisms and expressions remind me of Darryl, for those of you that know Darryl (but you can't see it much in the clip). Since much of his act was a repeat, we decided to step out early to catch the 10:00 performance of The Chinese Art of Placement.
This I mark as the turning point in the evening. From here on out things began to get progressively darker - and I don't mean that in a sunshiney way. While it had it's funny moments, the play was definitely of a heavier tone than anything else we'd seen. Basically, in case you guys didn't know, we're all fucked up in various ways and that leads some of us to destroy furniture by banging it mercilessly on the floor to kill ants.
The show ended around 11:00, and since I had a few minutes to kill time before my tram, I popped into the 7-11 (yes, they have 7-11 but no damn index cards here. sorry. digress.) to buy some crackers to abate the nausea that had overcome me during the last 30 mins of the show.
I knew something was amiss when I got on the tram. To my left was a near-empty tram with plenty of seats. To my right was a crowded tram with people huddled together in that way that makes you think they all are in on some secret you don't know yet. My instinct was to head left, but after I took one step in that direction, I thought it out. In the past when something is so obviously off balance as this, I'm totally overlooking the blatant reason everyone is all in one area together - i.e. that time in London there was a bloodied man who had just been hit by a car. Wanting to avoid whatever it was - and for some reason I thought massive pool of vomit - I decided to take my chances with the masses.
As I headed toward the right side, a man dressed in black leather drunk-mumbles to me, "Can I have one of those? Just one," and gestures to my crackers. Afraid of what will happen should I refuse, I hand one over. An image of my box of crackers being passed around the tram flashes before my eyes and I begin to panic. More panic ensues when I look up at the faces "greeting" me. It appears as though I've landed on the train headed to Hell.
Just as this thought passes through my brain, drunk man in black again drunk-mumbles something at me about the holy ghost three times. Fucking hell. Am I the holy ghost? It seems as though he is addressing me, but instead of "Miss" or "Ma'am," it's "holy ghost." I move quickly past him and take my seat opposite some goth kids being very un-gothlike and cuddling together.
I cannot describe to you each character on that tram - I don't have the time, the memory, or the vocabulary - but I think it will suffice to say that at any moment I wouldn't have been surprised if any of them took the tram hostage and/or pulled out an oozie and/or started offing people. Thank God there are no guns in Oz or I probably would not have made it home in one piece.
Thankfully exiting the tram, I almost start to run the few blocks to my house. Along the way I pass some scary, druggie adolescent types who yell some generic offensive comment to me. Ignore. Keep walking. Keep walking. I am about to turn the corner and be on my block when I see what appears to be two men struggling to get a blue bag out of a door. The following thoughts go through my head, "Trash. Body! Body!! Don't be silly. Trash. Is trash. Damn, would've been cool if it was body."
I walk past the men and register a very large bag. Have sudden realization it is actually big enough to be a body. Further realization that is, in fact, a body bag. Then there's a stretcher. Then there's the men strapping the bag to the stretcher. IS BODY. IS FUCKING BODY.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Have witnessed disposal of murdered person, will be next! Wait.
Stretcher? What kind of murderer has a stretcher? Turn around and notice hearse. Is still morbid and creepy, but not really frightening.
Relieved, I scurry home and am grateful the full moon was a couple of nights ago and that this didn't happen this upcoming Friday the 13th.
4 comments:
Oh.my.goodness.
I think I might have peed my pants several times throughout the night.
Thankfully KS is very short on trams and scary goth people!
Stories not to mention to Niki's mom.
girl, don't you remember the buddy system?! You were in my Girl Scout troup, I know you've heard of it! Freaky!!
AAAH! That sounds scarier than St. Louis. . . and I didn't know if that was possible! :)
Post a Comment