It was the middle of the show, and we had long since picked the low hanging fruit from the opening. Joe, an improvisor with whom I go back nearly 20 years, walked on stage and started making an action like he was feeding bread to ducks. I walked out and matched his activity. At this point, neither of us had much of an idea of where we were, or who we were to each other or how we felt about each other. He edited because it was time to edit, and I joined him because somebody had to.

Here was the part I loved. When we checked in with each other the beginning of the scene, we both knew that we had nothing. But I didn’t see any panic in Joe’s eyes. He was perfectly happy to be in a scene where we had nothing to start.

And so in the next few lines we calmly figured out what was going on and what we felt about it and each other and scene turned out pretty well. And it was because neither of us panicked. We were both completely comfortable starting a scene from almost nothing.

It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, but we still have a very strong connection. Lillie and I had similar sensibilities and even more similar ambitions. We both wanted to run our own theatres, we both loved improv and we were both frustrated by ImprovOlympic. Don’t get me wrong, it was a wonderful place to learn and grow as performers. It was the kind of frustration you feel when you love something and feel it could be even better if only you were in charge. A feeling that many, many performers have felt over the years as they passed through iO.

In a way, I got my chance to run a theatre in New York for the UCB, at least for a little while, and Lillie is getting her chance now. Last year she bought the Chicago Comedy Company, both it’s corporate improv wing and it’s theatre in Schaumburg. Although she has been running the place for a year now, and rebranded the theatre as the Laugh Out Loud Theater on January 1st, her official opening is just now happening on June 13th.

It’s interesting to see the different choices that she made. Instead of a small ensemble, she cast a big one. She has around 20 performers that rotate into the show (only 4 do each show). Her shows are short form rather than long form. Although the shows are doing well, the financial engine of the company will likely be the corporate shows and workshops they will be doing.

She is fulfilling a dream that I share, to run my own theatre. And even though she shares many of the same values as I do about performing, her theatre looks very different from the one I would start. I would focus on long form, rather than short form. I’d probably want lots of different ensembles and/or shows, not just the one consistent show. And the very last component I would add to my theatre would be a corporate outreach. It’s the part of the improv theatre business that I’ve liked the least, teaching workshops and doing shows for companies.

There are lots of little differences between us, but I still feel like we are peas in a pod when we are together. It’s funny too, because between her husband and her, they share almost all my major interests in life. After chatting with her all day about improv, I spent nearly all night talking to Scott about the internet and Second Life and other geeky topics. I think if I could pick a couple to be a permanent third wheel to, it would be them. I’d only need a break from them to go play poker every once in a while.