Ok Jill, hope you have a strong stomach.

OK so second funny story for the tori girl (apparently tori is what they call Jill's weird bone thingy's).
Alrighty. In honor of my being cast most recently in my second production of Urinetown I will post a humorous story from the first time I did the show.
It was 2006. I was a part of the first sit down production of Urinetown, The Musical! in Chicago.
Ok, whatever does that mean, Sara? Sit down? Doesn't everybody sit down at the theatre?
What I mean by "sit down" is that it was not a touring production. The idea was that the show would have an open run. We were home and we would stay there until the audiences no longer came to see us. Well, unfortunately for us, that happened after only one extension. So we had a decent go of it but I could have done that show, with that cast, for a really long time. To this day, it is my favorite production I have ever been lucky enough to be a part of.
Enough of the mushy gushy's, what's so funny about that?
Let me tell you a little bit about me first. I have something called IBS or Irritable Bowel Syndrome or as my dear best friend so lovingly refers to it...crabby ass.
Oh my goodness Sara! I've never heard of this ailment. What is it?
What it is is a lazy explanation from doctors who really have no fucking clue what is actually wrong with you. They have no pills, no remedies and no ideas about how to help you through this. They give you a stupid acronym and call it a day. Bastards.
Long story short? Some women have extreme constipation....they don't poop for days, weeks. I can only dream. Others, like me, have the exact opposite...
Did I mention this blog was going to be gross, gratuitous and somewhat embarrassing?
What does this mean? When I have to go....I have to go and get the fuck out of my way!
So here we are, well into the run of Urinetown ( I will let you marinate on the pun that was entirely intended in that sentence).
The role I was playing was Little Becky Two Shoes (which is a whole other story, suffice to say that Little Becky wears a brace and if you take it off, she will fall down...hope you all got that).
But I also had to play a little side role of Mrs. Millennium, a secretary. And I was a cop. And I was a UGC staff member. I never got a break. I was in almost every scene and if I wasn't I was offstage furiously going from one costume to another.
Picture this. The opening of Act 2. I have ahead of me 3 major dance numbers, a quick change to run across the stage as another character, another quick change to get back to my original character, a song in which I am frozen for the majority of it and 2 more quick changes before the finale.
The lights go down, the music begins, I am standing offstage well aware of the fact that I will not stop moving for the next hour to an hour and a half. I get into position, get ready to walk onstage.......and I feel it. Gurgle, gurgle...cramp. That terrifyingly familiar feeling. I have to take a dump...and not in the good way.
There is nothing I can do. I have the opening line of the second act! I do one scene cramping the whole way through. But I can't stop there. Here comes my big number, the one where I am featured. Oh god, please don't let anyone take too many pauses. Please let the musical director play as fast as he did that night he had a date after the show. Please let me get through this.
I make it through my featured number. But here comes "Run Freedom, Run" which is exactly what we do for almost the entire number.
Jesus Christ, I may actually crap my pants, onstage, during an equity show!
We finish running, thank god. But I still have 4 quick changes, 4 songs and a finale to get through. Dear Lord Almighty, what did I eat?
Maybe I can skip the crossover! Maybe I can have Sarah say a few of my lines and skip the next scene...doesn't matter because before I know it I am changed by my dresser and thrown out onstage for the crossover.
Ok, I need a plan. I cannot make through the rest show. I have to poop.
I do my crossover but of course the bathrooms are on the other side of the stage. I run up the ladder. Cross behind the scrim. Climb down the backstage stairs. There is my dresser, she has my next costume.
"I will be right back I promise!" I run up the stairs to the dressing room. Dear God in Heaven I'm gonna make it! The song onstage keeps trucking along but dammit I'm gonna make it. As I round the corner to the bathroom my Mrs. Millennium costume is already off. I will do my business and run downstairs in my underwear to change into Little Becky and make it just in time for "Tell Her I Love Her". Victory is in my grasp!
Nope. What's actually in my grasp is the handle to the bathroom door...which is locked.
I pound on the door....well as much pounding as you can do in a theatre when a show is going on. It's my friend, Sarah.
"Please....Please, please, pleeeeeaaase get out! Get out!" She is gracious enough to oblige.
I do what I have to do, run downstairs to change and make just in time to walk onstage.
So much for the glamour of the theatre.