Full Throttle Exhaust

This past weekend was the 7th Annual Del Close Marathon. For the one of you who reads this journal and does not know what that is, it's a 24 hour a day improv marathon that runs for three days at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater. I helped to manage the organized chaos that is the DCM, and logged in about 100 hours of work, 28 hours of sleep, 3 shows, 1 impov workshop, seeing Asscat at Summerstage, and some serious drinking over 7 days. I have never been so tired in my life.

Some highlights (and lowlights):

The Hotel. UCB graciously arranges for the managers to stay at a hotel during the marathon since otherwise we would get little to no sleep. This year's hotel of choice was The New Yorker, on the corner of 34th and 8th Avenue. This corner serves as home to many hookers and drug dealers, is across from the main branch of the NYC Post Office, and is also located a short distance from the two venues where we were holding the marathon. Convenience on so many fronts.

This is the most awesomely ghetto hotel ever. The hallways go on forever and are a putrid shade of stained yellow, the carpet is ratty and stained, and the walls are paper thin. It's sort of like The Shining via a very cracked out version of Motel 6. Normally I get that strange feeling of being very alone in hotel rooms. Fortunately for me an entire hispanic family was staying in the three hotel rooms surrounding mine and they saw fit to leave their doors open and yell across the hallway to one another as they were getting ready in the morning. I never felt alone. Not even for the briefest moment.

Also the hotel phone was not touch-tone, but pulse. I can't remember the last time I had to use a pulse phone. When attempting to reach the Wake Up Call center, it somehow connected me to another guest's room, leaving us both thoroughly confused since she woke up to take the call and I had not slept in over 24 hours. Oops.

The Out of Towners. We have a lot of out of towners at DCM every year and a few of them never leave the theater. One of them was a small blonde girl who was performing with some group from out of town. For Drunken Sonic Assault (a late night jam that devolves into chaos and features many drunk improvisors dressed up in various costumes) she chose to wear a drum around her middle and then wore it non stop for the next two days. I was standing with Paul Scheer when she approached him and told him how much she enjoyed his show. He of course thanked her and said how much he appreciated it, to which she replied: "Of course you appreciate it. I just gave you a fucking compliment. It's easy to appreciate it when someone flatters you." and then went off in a huff. By the last night everyone simply called her "Crazy Snare Drum Girl". I have no idea what her real name is.

Also one out-of-town group drove to the theater in an RV and parked it outside the theater for the three days. That is commitment.

Managing at Abingdon Theater. I had to manage the day shift at our second venue, the Abingdon Theater. I was going on about 5 hours sleep after working 24 hours the day before. Besides a group not showing up at the last moment and having to throw together an improv jam, things went smoothly. But during the last hour of the shift the toilet in the men's room decided to overflow sending a small deluge into the lobby, and a woman decided she wasn't feeling well and laid down on the floor, refusing to get up. All of this occurred as about 100 people filed into see a show. Good times.

Wrestling. This has become somewhat of a DCM tradition. The last night of the marathon we threw as many pillows as we could find onto the UCB stage and had many a wrestling match. Contestants included Matt Walsh, Charlie Todd, Eric Appel, Brian Berrebbi, Jawnee Conroy, DC Pierson, Alex Sidtis, Brian Waddell, many girls from out of town whose names I do not know, and of course, Crazy Snare Drum girl who kept getting disqualified for biting people. Matt Besser refereed. I suspect that this is Besser's ultimate reason for having the DCM. I have never seen him look so happy.

Around this time, I also enjoyed watching Brian Waddell, one of our fearless managers, down half a bottle of Petron by himself and getting into one of the most happy and blissful states I have ever seen anyone in ever.

Only 360 days until the next DCM. I hope to be recovered by then.