Lend Me Your Ears

The bus driver got on the PA system as we reached Third Avenue on Saturday evening.

“We’re now in Bay Ridge,” he told us. “Thank you for letting me take you home this evening.”

Wait, what? You’re thanking me? This is New York City, right? I nodded off on the way home, maybe I was still asleep?

But, no, this was really happening, and this young man had just provided a fitting end to a perfect day.

What it makes it even more remarkable was that the day had fiasco written all over it before turning out to be a real gem.

My plans for Saturday fell through at the very last minute and I was supremely bummed. I had this vision of myself sitting in my local park all day and going through the old Netflix and takeout routine that I do far too often.

I didn’t want to let that happen this time, so I jumped on Meetup.com and looked around for a last-minute event. There were plenty of intriguing things happening, but nothing grabbed me.

And then something caught my eye. The New York City Play Reading Group was holding an event at the Public Atrium on Third Avenue.

As the name implies, the group picks a play, and each member reads a part and then they follow up with a discussion.

It sounded like fun, though I was nervous about meeting new people and doing something different—which, of course, is all the more reason to do it.

I signed up, then instantly regretted it, but I refused to give in to the siren call of the comfort zone. I wanted to connect with people, damn it, and, since I love theater, this seemed like a great to do it.

...but is it Art?

This week’s play was Art, Yasmina Reza’s 1994 comedy about three men whose long-time friendship is threatened when one of them shells out a lot of money for painting that is all white with several fine white lines.

The play debuted in Paris and subsequently ran in London in 1996 and on Broadway in 1998.

I saw a production of Art at a community playhouse in Pittsfield, Mass. one summer while visiting my auntie at her home in the Berkshires, but it had been so long ago that I didn’t remember much about it.

So, I showed up at the Atrium and I just had a wonderful time. There were five other people and so friendly and supportive.

I was assigned to read the part of Marc, whose complaints about the painting starts the whole shlemozzle, as he refers to the work as “a piece of white shit.”

I stumbled over a few lines here and there, missed my cues once or twice, but, overall, it was fun. And I appreciated the play more this time around.

After the reading, we talked about the play and our host said that a revival of Art starring Bobby Cannavale, James Corden, and Neil Patrick Harris is set to open on Broadway this month.

We were only together a few hours, but I felt so good. I’ve done several events with various Meetup groups, but this one stood out because we all had a common interest.

It was beautiful day, so when we wrapped things up, I walked down to my auntie’s place where I helped her out around the apartment and then we went out for a fabulous Mexican dinner.

By this time, I was almost glad my original plans had fallen through. I met some cool people, and since the group meets every Saturday, I can see them regularly.

Next week the group is reading Amy Herzog’s 4,000 Miles, and I made sure to sign up.

I caught the express bus on Fifth Avenue, sparing myself a grinding ride home on the subway, and giving me the chance to ride with this most pleasant driver.

I always bid the express drivers goodnight when I get off the bus, but this fellow saw me coming down the aisle and give me a wave before I had a chance to say a word.

And with that, the curtain falls.