As I may have mentioned, I am currently playing Bill in FourSquare, part of Manuel Zarate's Love Sonatas (good seats still available!).
Bill is (as only a performer playing him or his Mom would say) socially stunted. He is also a touch narcissistic and other-blind. He may or may not also narrate his life to Woody Allen.
His performer is nervous about having these damn lines in his head.
His performer may nor may not wander (via that time honored verb - pace) outside the rehearsal space in not-the-best-neighborhood muttering lines to himself.
His performer may or may not be kinda scruffy looking at this point.
Last night we had a pick-up rehearsal after most of a week off to refresh these lines o' ours. I arrived early (as is my wont) and may or may not have returned to the alleged pacing and muttering.
And the daytime inhabitants of our rehearsal space called the cops on me.
And Mr. Officer showed up to question my presence (after I had spoken to a member of the staff who had warned me very gently that they were on their way) and I had provided my government issued ID, I started giggling a bit, both due to nervousness and as I explained to Mr. Officer:
I had the cops called on me essentially for being my character in public.
I of course handed him a postcard for the show and invited him down.
I am left with one question:
Hey Austin PD? Do I really only rate one officer?