"Cemetery Row"

I'll be playing the part of 'Drew' in a reading of Karen Wurl's new play Cemetery Row. The reading is on Tuesday, November 4th at 6:30 PM at the Whole Art's Studio space in Kalamazoo. 246 N. Kalamazoo Mall, if you happen to see this beforehand. All are welcome.

In preparing for the reading, I ended up writing a bit of something from the perspective of the character as I see him. What came out was almost a short story unto itself, albeit an extremely vague one. Here it is:

I like the feeling that I get when I give Lauren Mix CD’s. It makes me feel a little bit closer to her in some ways, I think. Sometimes I wonder if…well, no. That couldn’t - no. Just, never mind. I like to make them for her.

I wish she wouldn’t bring up these guys that keep showing up dead. It reminds me of, uh, of Lisa. She wasn’t there. Lauren wasn’t, I mean. People die, okay? That’s just it. People die. Stop talking about it. Please.

I get just a little bit hard when Lauren plays. She’s so fucking hot on stage, you know? You know. The way she sweats a little I almost think she’s nervous - which is stupid because she’s so damn original - but it doesn’t show. That makes it more hot. Hotter? Attractive hot, not heat hot.

The record store? I like it, yeah. I mean, I know it’s kind of geeky/trendy to be me at that store. I realize that, but there must be a reason Stan hired me. I guess I know more about some of the lesser-known acts then a lot of people. And then there are acts that really ought to be known, but no one knows them, so they don’t get big, but if they got big then maybe it’d go to their heads, so maybe it’s good that only I know them. I really wish people would just take the time to find their own new music, though. Instead of coming in all the time and asking me just because I know “the weird stuff.” And it’s like, “listen, buddy, if you find it for yourself, then it’s new. If I tell you about it, it’s recycled. It’s using my talent and ear for music to avoid developing one of your own, so just get the fuck out alright?”

“Nice guys finish last” they say. How about “emotionally off-balance guys whose girlfriend blows her brains out on the front step finish last and then get fucked repeatedly in the ass by creepy townies from other small towns.”? No one ever says that. But it’s true.

And he’s probably not even from that town. Not only is he a townie, he’s an out-of-townie. And not only that, but he’s a fake out-of-townie. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never met anyone from north of here that didn’t have at least a trace of that ridiculous accent. And so, uh…put together, too. He’s got a word to say about everything. Everything. Who the fuck from Superior, Wisconsin knows about Neutral Milk Hotel? Hell, I only know them because I found their album in a fucking box in the back of the fucking store! Do they even have record stores in Superior?

How can she possibly feel a connection to that? He’s not from here, he doesn’t know a single thing about her. I know her. I fucking know her. He just…found her.

**Interruption**

Oh-kay, so. Guess who was right? That creepo is not from ANYWHERE in Wisconsin, and he is not called Josh. By anyone. Lauren is going to be so disappointed. Well, serves her right for falling for him if she was even that stupid. That’s mean. She’s not stupid. And I understand the attraction, I guess. He’s, or rather his character is a pretty nice guy. I can admit that, really I can. But he played her. I would never do that, ever. That…that could destroy a girl. I wish I could have seen this sooner. Like before “Josh” came in and swept her off her feet or whatever. I felt something off about him from the beginning, I just didn’t think anything of it until…well, until her phone was off the other night. There’s only one reason she’d turn her phone off. I know that reason. And I know that look on her face.

God dammit she is going to freak. I wish I could find some way to tell her without coming across like - like I would come across if I said: “Oh by the way your new boyfriend is either a heinously method up-and-coming indie actor named Matt Mulvane, or he’s a cheap lying prick named Matt Mulvane, or he’s a psycho named - can you guess? - Matt fucking Mulvane! In fact, look at that, there’s no question: he’s all three. By the way here’s a new CD.”? I mean, I’m positive not even a whole box of mix CD’s would be enough to cheer her up after that.

Guess who I just - you’ll never guess who I just ran into. Fucking Emily Miller Martin. I was on my way home last night and I saw her across the street. I was like, “Is that -? No. Holy shit, it is.” And, whatever, so I kind of followed her a little bit and pulled that “you look awfully familiar” routine so she wouldn’t think I was some sort of stalker, and we got to talking about a certain film project with a certain up-and-coming indie actor named - uh-oh! - MATT MULVANE. And guess who “Josh Mueller” is? Or what he is, anyway.

So I’ve got a plan, and maybe meeting Emily Miller Martin will take the edge off Lauren finding out that her Josh is not hers, and not Josh. Yeah. He’s Emily’s fucking boyfriend. I just hope that…yeah, never mind. I hope this works.

**Interruption**

Fuck.
Fuck, I…
Fuck.