JUST GOT BACK FROM NEW JERSEY, where I played the part of a real estate agent who was skeptical that Cendant Mortage (the parent company of Century 21, Coldwell Banker and ERA) was REALLY the company for all my mortgage needs. I did this not on the stage, as you might imagine, but in the context of a corporate video.
It was all kinds of fun, mostly because two of my former improv friends from Kansas City, Trish Berrong and John Cox, were involved as well. Trish was co directing the shoot and John was the "wise agent" trying to show me, the "dumb agent," how great Cendant was.
For instance, John might say, "Cendant's mortgage counselors are like other companies' originators. And they have a computer system that can handle loan approvals quickly through an online transmission with a combined credit report."
And I would reply with either "Really?" or "What?" or "Huh?" Which made my job probably a little easier than John's.
And then, of course, there was the drinking. You can't have more than two improvisers in a room without drinking being involved. It's a rule.
The weirdest part of the whole thing, however, was the flight out. It was my first time on a plane since September 11 and I was a bit edgy. You could tell the other passengers were too, especially when two New York goombahs got on the Phoenix-to-Baltimore leg only minutes before take-off and took an immediate dislike to the passengers on the plane.
They seemed specifically put off by the lone Indian gentleman who happened to be wearing a blue turban-like hat. Adding to their discomfort, I am certain, was the group of 25 or 30 migrant workers who had boarded with me in Los Angeles and filled up the back third of the plane.
Despite being the last two passengers on a nearly fully booked flight, the two goombahs seemed surprised that there weren't two seats together. So they walked all the way to the back of the plane before trudging back to the front all put out because they had to sit in the seats against the bulkhead that faced backwards.
Being in the third row, I had a perfect view of their displeasure. "Why, this will certainly be more entertaining than an in-flight movie," I thought.
"I don't like the looks of this flight," one goombah said to the other.
"Me neither," said Goombah #2. "Did you see that guy?"
"Yeah, I saw him."
"I got a bad feeling."
"Me too."
The stewardess informed them that they should decide whether or not they were going to stay on the plane RIGHT NOW, as getting their bags off the plane could delay the flight.
After a brief discussion, the Goombah Brothers decided to get off the plane. Which was great for me, because they were a big drag. But their departure caused a minor ripple of panic to reverberate through the first half-dozen or so rows. As people began to openly question, "What's going on? Why did they get off the plane?" And on and on like that. As if these two geniuses had some insight into what was going on.
One woman, a few rows in back of me, kept saying to the guy next to her, "They went all the way back to the back of the plane. Does the stewardess know they went all the way to the back of the plane? Tell the stewardess they went all the way back to the back of the plane."
Of course, once they were off the plane and the stewardess informed the panicky woman that the men didn't cleverly stow some nefarious device in the (non-existent, at that point) overhead space, we took off.
I guess the Indian man in the turban, turned out NOT to be a terrorist after all. Go figure.
