DIRTY ROTTEN GREAT FALLS, MT

"Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" on tour...

I rest as much as possible on the bus and say as little as possible (imagine me resisting the impulse to speak) in order to preserve my voice. When we arrive in Great Falls, I take a brisk walk to see how quickly my energy level drops. I have a peculiar sensation in my mouth and it takes me a while to realize that I'm back in the prairie and I can taste the dust where ever I go. The walk goes well, my energy seems fine and my voice is about 80% restored so I decide to do the show.

We're in yet another weird-ass venue that requires a list of cuts from our sets and backdrops. It's been so long since we've done the full show that we're all having trouble remembering what it looks like. By the middle of Act 1, I am soaking wet and am relieved to hear that the rest of the cast is too. I don't have a fever, the theatre is simply the temperature of molten lava. It's a good, solid show and a great crowd and my voice manages to make it through to the end. Sadly, even though it is Jeffrey's birthday, I feel that it would be really irresponsible of me to go out and drink with the cast. So I go to bed.....

....and bed seems to be where I'll be spending my day off here in Great Falls. Ah....Mah.....Gahw! Being stuck downtown is not unlike being banished to the unfinished basement that your Grandparents refer to as the 'rec room'. I mean, I'm pretty good at entertaining myself but there is NOTHING here, and what there is carries an air of dusty, last chance desperation. Not to mention the assortment of broken down people who have the same last chance air. I hold a door open for an old man with a cane. Instead of thanking me, he hits me up for change. I tell him he gets money or politeness, not both. (Note to self: Buy a couple of hits of acid in order to stay entertained during 2 days off in Bozeman, MT!!!!).

The most interesting thing I've come across here is the classic 50's cafe down the street. This is no kitchy retro-diner, this is the real thing, complete with counter stools, juke boxes in the booths and hoodlums ordering cheese burger deluxe. The reason the place is so interesting though is because it has one of the grumpiest waitresses I've ever seen. She is such a sour-puss that she doesn't even raise her eyes from her pad when she speaks to someone. All I can think is, "Honey, I know you're a hundred and four years old, but you can't hold me responsible for that". She is, in fact, so miserable, and giving everyone (including the cook) such a hard time that I am wildly entertained.