Things people did in class today while Bill was talking:

• Talked
• Sang
• Hummed
• Threw a ball back and forth
• Bounced a ball against the wall
• Hit the wall with fists
• Smacked fists into palms
• Clapped hands rhythmically
• Snapped fingers
• Stood while everyone else was sitting (in the audience)
• Sat while everyone else was standing (while onstage)
• Lay down on the floor
• Stomped across the stage
• Continued the conversation they were already having (fair’s fair; I did this at least once)
• Did handstands against the wall

Whenever Bill says “Let’s get started” after a break, regardless of what’s already happening, up to three of these activities will suddenly begin. Thus today after break Bill said “Let’s get going” and within a few seconds there was a handstand competition against the stage wall while he answered a question. As in, God forbid we should sit and wait for someone else to finish what they’re doing.

I don’t know, maybe this is the same attitude toward other people’s time that I demonstrate when I’m late all the time. Maybe that’s why it irritates me so much. My other theory is that we’ve all been operating at 120 mph for three weeks now and we’re all protecting ourselves by retreating into our basic defensive posture, which in my case is the cranky old bastard who resents how everyone else is doing everything wrong. I’m trying with limited success to avoid actually displaying it. I have noticed that Bill has started calling out when someone is doing something particularly distracting while he’s talking by asking, “Are you gonna be all right?”

But this is improv, right? If I can’t learn how to accept what’s going on with my team — and for the next two weeks, this is my team — then I can’t ever get past my own preconceptions to the Valhalla of group mind. I accept that . . . but being me, the lesson I take from this is to make really damn sure I like who’s on my team before I commit myself to accepting them the way they are. I don’t think that runs counter to the spirit of improv, which among other things is a performance in a space where everyone has agreed that anything can happen. I don’t want to do it on the street or in front of a standup comedy audience, because that common agreement isn’t there. By the same token, I want to play with people who share some of my basic premises about what we’re trying to do. It’s not that I’m right and other people are wrong, it’s that I know what I like and if I commit to trying to create something with people who don’t like the same things I do, it might be interesting, but it will almost certainly be frustrating.

Or am I just rationalizing?