With The Bang of a Gong
“The folks are gone,
it’s time for big fun! Big fun!
We’re up till dawn
having some big fun! Big fun!
When mom and dad forget
to lock the liquor cabinet,
it’s big fun! Big fun!”
I was such a goodie-two shoes in high school, I almost annoyed myself. I was not trying to please my parents or ‘do the right thing’, I was just genuinely afraid of how I would feel under the influence. Because once you feel that way, you stay that way, no matter how much you wish it away. I remember thinking, “If you drink, everything will start to spin, you will walk into the street and die”. I blame DARE. My naive nature did not serve me well in college. I could maybe get to the bottom of one screwdriver before I found myself hanging over the toilet. Classy right?
Fast forward … a lot of years… while I am a huge fan of a great adult beverage, I am still on the straight and narrow when it comes to the life of a teen. All the things I was afraid to do in high school are common occurrences. Drinking, smoking, wearing a shirt and calling it a dress… totally normal. These kids make my teenage self look like an American girl doll and my adult self look like a crotchety old grandma. Kids these days!
Every Sunday afternoon, for the last eight years, I have been in rehearsal with teenagers. Many of whom I have known so long, they are like little siblings. With every passing year, they get worse and worse about hiding their indiscretions of the prior evening. Sometimes, they don’t want to hide them. I think it took theater kids a little longer to catch on to the ‘partying makes you cool’ thing. What once used to be a walk of shame (the mascara under the eyes, the scratchy, airy tone in the voice) has now become a badge labeled ‘I’m lit. Therefore, I am cool’
One Sunday, I am all ready to start rehearsal when I realize we are missing six students.I check the list and realize, all these kids go to the same school and for the most part, carpool. Mom mode initiated. Panic ensues. The worst has happened, they have all gotten in an accident! I don’t dare call them, in case they are still driving. I ask another student if she has heard from them. Still panicking. She starts to giggle.
On time student: Ummm…
Me: Yes?
On time student: They are coming… I just… I think… they are moving sloooowly.
Me: What do you mean?
On time student: (hinting)... and maybe had to stop for a bagel?
Me: Why would they do that? They have to be at rehearsal.
On time student: (beginning to laugh at me) I think they may NEED the bagels.
(blank stare)
On time student: … They had a cast party last night.
Me: (pissed and SASSY). Oh… so they are tired and they all slept in and NOW they are getting bagels.
On time student: (practically yelling at my stupidity) OH MY GOD LEXIE…. THEY ARE HUNGOVER!
Me: (scheming): Oh really!
In my bag that day, I happened to have a gong! Yes.. I am totally serious! I was doing a production of High School Musical at a totally different theater and needed a gong for Ms. Darbus (the drama teacher… anyone seeing some parallels here?). So I pulled the gong out of my bag and hid behind the doorway for the hungover brigade to pull up to rehearsal. The on time, seemingly not hungover kids, were all happily posted near the door with their phones ready to video, as if this was a surprise birthday party.
A group of three comes walking in the door with their sunglasses and their baggy clothes. Remember it’s cool to be hungover now. Oh, you want to draw attention to it… I got you! I jump out from behind the door and bang the gong one time, so loudly it even makes me want to vomit. These three kids JUMP out of their skin. One is literally stunned to stillness, one starts screaming and the last one crouches down into the fetal position and looks like she is going to hurl.
Me: Hey kids! Have a good night?
(They are caught and they know it)
They hang their heads in shame as they walk past me and my new best friend, Mr. Gong. I pull the hammer out as if I am going to ring it again and they run as far away from me as they can get.
The next three walk in and lather, rinse, repeat. One girl covers her ears so tightly her face turns red, another screams ‘Oh My God’ repeatedly for a few seconds and the last, a young boy, looks like he wants to bang my head directly into the wall. I can see the steam coming out of his ears. I followed the three of them in to the rehearsal studio, banging the gong behind them, surprising them every time. Quiet screams come from the messy crew that has huddled in a corner, ‘Why’ ‘Stop’ ‘What the hell’ ‘Lexie’.
I proceeded to give a hysterical, yet important speech about responsibility and maturity. I am not stupid enough to think they are never going to drink and while I am incredibly glad they didn’t drive home and they were all very safe, they had a responsibility to this show, their cast mates and each other to be prepared for rehearsal. Most of them were not nearly as hungover as they had claimed to be (again, the cool thing). They all apologized and I of course, did not let them live it down for the rest of the day.
The young boy who looked like he may want to pluck my eyes out with a spoon, asked if he could speak with me. I thought he was going to personally apologize - he is that type of kid.
Young boy with daggers in his eyes: Lexie - I didn’t drink last night but I stayed up to drive everyone home and make trips back and forth to the party. So… can I bang the gong in their faces?
I proudly handed it off. And with his first bang on the gong, he was initiated into the goodie-two shoes club. Welcome friend. Welcome.
