Approximately two days ago I was sitting outside of Starbucks (this location, as you will see, has been home base for the last 48 hours of nutball adventures) and I see a crowd of 20 people walking in a straight line down the sidewalk. I was on the phone with a friend. "ACTORS!" I said, hung up the phone, and proceeded to join in at the end of the line. I could tell the exercise was some sort of group thing, where the "leader" or "leaders" changed at random, everyone was responsible for the group. They were mimicing and creating scenes-- and they were at the same time deeply confused and ecstatic that I joined them. We proceeded to move about the city in this way, sometimes deeply annoying, sometimes wonderfully intriguing. After almost an hour, I could tell they were making their way back into the studio, so I slid back into the Starbucks for a water-- only to turn around and find each and every one of them with their hands and faces plastered against the window looking at me. I followed them to their studio for the normal acting debriefing session, introduced myself, and was invited to see some improv with them that evening. I detest improv (I prefer clowning!) but I fell in love with the show-- and discovered a fondness for one of the younger ones. Earlier this week, an 8 inch stake went through his arms... he handles it with grace. We walked a few miles to his friends place, where 8 of us smoked and told ghost stories. I'm not too happy with scary stories, so I told "Horton Hears a Who"... the Suess book that I've memorized. It was unbelievably refreshing... artists. Real, live, artists. Young artists! I was saved! At 12:30, boss man called. Why hadn't I replied to his texts? Why was I out so late? Why was I exercising my freedom as an adult!? Nothing happened between me and stake-in-the-arm-man, save for innocent flirting. When I got home, boss and his assholery blew me away once more.