Coffee and Improv

An experiment in getting out more

If I had to describe myself, the word introvert would be one of the first five words I’d use. Home is my happy place, alone time is my best battery charging solution.

That said, I’m not, nor do I want to be, a complete loner. I also like connecting with people and creating community, just on a small scale. Like, three or four people. Maybe I am a micro-community builder? I have no idea if that is already a thing, but it sounds good.

So I’m trying to embrace the idea of being more extroverted in small ways.

Last month I decided I would try to invite one person out for coffee each month. Like, someone I wouldn’t normally think about hanging out with. That doesn’t sound like a big commitment, and maybe it’ s not, but it’s something. I hesitate even bringing it up; I reserve the right to change my mind at any time and I don’t want to feel like I failed if I give it up. This is NOT a new year’s resolution!

So last week, I invited our neighbors to go out for coffee. We have slowly gotten to know them (they moved to the ’hood 2012, I moved into this house in 2013). They are kind of introverted too! So here we are, after 12 years, finally going out for coffee. It was lovely.

They are sweet people and we have many things in common. She bakes sourdough, Marcus bakes sourdough. He likes being outdoors, Marcus likes being outdoors. I don’t know that they have much in common with me, unless they read a lot or write books or whatever, but we didn’t talk about those things. Fortunately, I’m pretty adaptable in social situations and can usually find something to talk about (although it’s tiring). So I’d call it a success. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime. Although I really don’t want to invite them over—they’ve spent a lot of money fixing up their house and I’m mortified by the original, awful carpet in this house that we have not yet earmarked any funds to replace. So unless we hang out in the back yard, I’ll be inviting them to go out for coffee again.

Then on Sunday, I went and did some improv. It’s not my first time, but it’s been probably ten years or thereabouts so it might has well have been my first time. A friend of mine and his wife own a small improv theater here in Tulsa and asked if I’d be part of a “focus group” for a new kind of class they want to start – a kind of social gathering with snacks and a few improv games. Less like a series of classes, more like a way for people to unplug from their regular lives and put themselves safely into a situation where they can interact with others.

I told my friend that maybe I wasn’t the right demographic for his experiment, as the name of his idea is “Socials” and I could never picture myself thinking Oh, I will go by myself to this thing called Improv Socials, that will be a good idea. But it sounded like maybe he wanted an anti-social guinea pig for his social project, so I agreed. And then I got kind of excited about it. I love improv. I love watching it when it’s good.

I remember enjoying his Level 1 class a decade ago, although I wasn’t good at it. But really, especially when you’re just doing Level 1 classes, it doesn’t matter. It’s about having fun… if you can get out of your head enough. Which I can sometimes do.

There were nine of us at the focus group on Sunday; I was the only one who doesn’t do improv regularly and I felt like a high-school algebra student trying to keep up at JPL. It literally was rocket science.

I felt so out of my league! But I loved it. I think improv skills can be learned, to a certain extent. You can learn how to think in non-linear ways; how to pull something out of thin air that can be funny and also a foundation for the next person to pull something else out of thin air and for it to all be connected. It’s great practice for writing comedy.

After the run-through I gave them my thoughts on what they’re trying to build. I told them some of the games were too advanced for people who are brand-new to improv and just coming to do something fun. And that someone needs to facilitate the conversation in the breaks so no one feels left out (🙋🏻‍♀️). When we were done, someone told me it didn’t appear like I was out of my league, and it was the best compliment I’ve gotten in a long time. I will be doing more improv this year. (Please just don’t make me do it in front of an audience, that’s another story.)

After the class I was exhausted though, and by the time I got home I’d manifested a cold. Thank goodness I don’t have much on my calendar this week. Having an empty calendar makes me incredibly happy.

It seems like the older I get, the fewer people I have in my life who really know me, know what I mean? People who’ve known me a long time. Who have seen me go through stuff; who have helped me through that stuff. Parents, other relatives, old friends. But people grow apart, pass away. Things change. It’s how it works. I do have some good friends and a smidge of close family (hi Deepti!), but there are not many people on this Earth who know me. I should—and am—grateful there are any. This is how my life’s turned out to be and while sometimes I’m sad about it, I am also okay with it. Sometimes I feel like I came into this life with the purpose of learning how to be alone.

These are the kinds of things that improv or coffee dates probably won’t change. Perhaps I will be melancholy about this for the rest of my days. Yet I am grateful for what I have and for what I have had. And really, you never know what might happen in an improv class.

improv, 2015

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