Lunch in France

Sunday the cast had a 2pm matinee. I met them briefly for brunch, then stayed behind at the bistro to meet a couple of potential directors for next season. Half-way through my first coffee meeting, I look up and see a familiar face at the bistro counter, ordering soup. Anna-Maria...Cordelia. I look at my watch. 2:30pm.

Panic, followed by irrational anger. What is she doing here? Was the play cancelled? Did she forget about her call? Is the cast back at the Playhouse, struggling to re-invent the play sans Cordelia? I suppress the urge to stuff her under my arm and race back to the theatre.

Then it dawns on me. 2:30 is a half hour into the show...which means they're on about Act 2, Scene 1...which means that Cordelia is in France. Anna-Maria got banished fifteen minutes ago, and won't be needed onstage again for at least another hour. She's getting soup in France. She smiles and waves, and I wave back, abashed.

I'm glad I'm not in charge of things anymore.