I pulled up to the corner of 21st and Larimer, hoping to find an easy parking spot. The digital clock reflected the time — 6:01 p.m. — and the rain obscured the view through my rear view mirror.
Had I known the Rockies were playing a home game, I would have come sooner. Had I known there would be mostly parallel parking, being a suburban, Arizona girl, I probably would have walked.
6:02 p.m. The class was already starting. The time for a decision was now: do I pull one of my dozen excuses and go home… or do I commit, figure out how to parallel park in the moonlit rain, and arrive, however many minutes late, to improvise!
I could walk you from the anxious shivering of my legs to the cold prickle on my spine as I strolled past a dark Greyhound Bus Terminal, but I’ll jump straight to the cliff notes highlights: I chose improv. I made it about 15 minutes late, meekly shuffled onto the stage, and found my home.
And spoiler alert: the lessons you learn in improv are actually about life offstage.