No Epics allowed.
“You are bad.” Have you ever had a hippy with a brown, crocheted scarf wrapped around her neck — and head, yell that at you?
I’m a junior at a art high school. I study creative writing from 2pm to 5pm everyday, in a variety of classes. One of these classes in a literary magazine class, where random people submit and we edit them and decide if they get into our book or not. A way we promote ourselves is hosting a couple open-mics. Last week we hosted one of these events.
It all went so well. I was incredibly excited to host this event with one of my closest friends. And all my classmates made a super great team. It was like when your pastor mother brings you to her church with your brothers and she gives each of you a job to do before the Christmas Eve service and everyone had to do it before the old people arrive unnecessarily early. But you do it — and you realize that teamwork can in fact, make the dream work.
So at this open mic, there’s a list for signing up. We had all kinds of people sign, talent wise. There were poets reading poems, actors doing stand-up, story writers reading excerpts, vocalists singing, and musicians playing beautiful music. But they all shared something in common. They were all in association with my school. It was all staff and students.
Since I was a co-host, the other host and I had to usher people into the very hipster, artsy, welcoming venue. At one point I decided to go in the venue and show people where bathrooms were and mingle a little bit. I was really taking this co-host title to art. My effort was 100% the whole time. While I was inside doing this, my co-host met a woman on the street. She asked what we were doing and she decided she wanted to sign up. So she went to the sign-up sheet and signed in with the name, and I kid you not, Bethlehem. Under the performance section she wrote “storytime” then disappeared into the seating. I saw her very briefly in that moment. When I went to the sign-up sheet though, my friend working it explained that this woman insisted she go last since she had a very pretty piece that involved music. Plus, our teacher signed off on her going last. So, in my head we now have a beautiful ending all set and ready to take place. We just needed people to sign up to do their 3–4 minute performance. And when I found out she was doing something with music, I thought of like, a Sesame-Street vibe, with a song along and all that good stuff. But no, not that at all.
Performance after performance goes. It is going so beautifully and I am incredibly happy with the show so far. Then 7:28(ish) rolls around and the last act hasn’t gone yet. Now, we had planned on having the show done by 7:30, but my teacher said we could go to 7:40 at the latest. So I quickly look around to find Bethlehem while the performance before her is still up. And there she was, in the back of the venue. A tall, white woman. No hair to be shown because of her crocheted scarf that wrapped around her head. Her high boots that were for sure on that cultural apportion line. “Do you need anything on stage? Like a chair or something?” I asked her, knowing she had musical involvement. But she declined and said she’d perform standing. To which I replied with “Okay, sweet.”
We all applaued for the previous act and my co-host introduces her. So she made her way to the stage, set one phone down on the amp, pressed the record button, which I didn’t think much of. Then she pulled out a second phone and plugged it into our amp. So, two phones. That’s when I got a little more curious about this human. Then the very loud and harsh ambient sounds came from the amp. Before words came from her mouth, I knew this show was slightly fucked.
“My name is Bethlehem, I go by Bethlehem” She told the audience. Although, I’m pretty sure her name is like, Kate or something. She continued to explain her reasons for being there. “I know everyone else here performed shorter pieces, but this piece is a bit longer. It’s called an epic and an epic is like a long story, but written like a poem.” So, a prose, no need for the fancy name. This was all very unepic. “So, I hope you all can settle in and maybe close your eyes.” And then she started. I quickly turned around and said to my friends, “Fuck.”
Her voice dropped like four octaves and she was aggressively saying into the mic “And we’re digging and we’re digging…” But all I could think about was getting her off that stage. My teacher recommended that I make a 1 minute sign and show it off so our friend Bethlehem can see. So I had my friend quickly draw out a sign that in bold said “1 Minute!” And I felt good about that, especially when I raised it above my head and Bethlehem made direct eye contact with me, then the sign. So I counted to thirty and walked up to the stage and sat down next to the amp, slowly turned the music, then the mic. She did not like that I did that. She said into the mic “I have eight to nine more minutes left and I would like to finish.” I replied with, “I’m really sorry, but unfortunately we have to end the show and pack up, but thank you for what you’ve said.” She shot her head at me, literally like a hawk. Like a mom about to call the manager. A fierce face that no human should ever see. I looked death in the eyes and she was a hippy. She then said “You are bad. You have terrible manners.” And stomped off stage and disappeared into the night.
