A conversation in which your blogger makes a fool of herself

After dropping off the arts scene radar for an entire year, I made it to Playlab's annual general meeting last Friday night (April 28, 2006). I was asked to come to help the AGM meet quorum.

Having only moved back to Brisbane a little over a year ago, I knew very few people in the room. That didn't bother me in the slightest. I had no agenda for being there, other than adding myself to the body count.

When the meeting ended, I introduced myself to a quiet gentleman sitting nearby, in the corner. He said his name was Errol and mentioned that he was writing a play. For the next 30 minutes or so, we proceeded to talk about globalisation, homogenisation, Australia's cultural identity, worldwide poverty, the history of Brisbane, telecommunications and access, the media, the state of the arts, the national film and television industry, the theatre, making a living as an artist... I have to admit I have some pretty strong opinions, and I wasn't afraid of voicing them...

"By the way," I asked, "What's your last name?"
"O'Neill," he answered.

Words cannot describe how I felt.

"Oh," was all I could say. "... Um, what was the last play you had produced?"
"A little play that ran two years ago - The Mayne Inheritance."

At that point, I felt like crawling under the table.

I had just spent the past half hour obnoxiously expounding my opinions to one of Queensland's Theatre Giants, whose work I truly respect. Perhaps it was fortunate that I didn't know who he was when I began to talking to him, or else I just wouldn't have known what to say.

To my horror, a starstruck feeling began to take hold of me. So I just kept waffling. The conversation ended with an awkward goodbye not long after.

There was a considerable supply of alcohol at the event. I just hope he wasn't aware that I was actually sober when I was talking to him.