Ministry of Happy

NjpUs24nCQKx5e1DGoE3DIbzZ2eFfMsff34oU2SzQuBSo I was given the keys to a van full of yellow stuff and ridiculous props and told that my job is to make people Happy. Then I was given two other people’s phone numbers. Problem is the other people couldn’t communicate with me easily and none of them knew what we were supposed to do. And nor did I. And they were both late.

First of all I waited under a tree for an hour and a half and then I met Abbie. Abbie was great but I greeted her badly. I opened with “I could’ve got some people on my campsite to have done this.” She rolled with it. And we started to problem solve. The other actor wasn’t there at all and so we decided to just get the stuff and do it.

Cut to the two of us humping all sorts of random crap through a campsite while I’m on the megaphone already announcing the presence of the Ministry of Happy, and checking people’s happiness levels as we crossed the campsite. Dressed in utterly ridiculous brilliant yellow jumpsuits. And Abbie is brilliant and extremely diplomatic. She reminds me of how I opened our exchange once we have bonded. She just gets on with it. It’s ace.

Half an hour after I’ve met her we are improvising in front of strangers, running round with measures and pumps and mirrors and ropes. Madness. Utter madness. And with two complete strangers attempting to make sense of it. It was lovely. I think the reason I love performance work, or one of them, is that you have to meet total strangers and immediately form a bond with them. Within two hours, Abbie and I had forged a funny positive nuanced working relationship which then disbanded immediately as she was only doing today.

I’m getting ribbed in the campsite now for writing my blog. By people who are reading it. “We need a bit less “Al” in Al’s blog,” says Nim. He’s right. But right now, Al is off to see Two Door Cinema Club. And Al is happy that he made things work for the people that made this festival work for him…

Posting this without any reread or edit and a generic picture that I preloaded from the website. Internet is rare and spotty here. Phone battery life is precious. You might not even get the picture…

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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