I was surprised to learn he smoked--this man who set up the event. It was bizarre. An Easter egg hunt for a small plastic doll. I've always been good at egg hunts, so I felt confident. We could work in groups. I aligned myself with two other players. We'd each take a section of the room. There was a fourth person who showed interest in working with us. We said we'd see how round one (of three) went. The game began, and I was surprised by how difficult it was. I couldn't find the little doll anywhere. I asked the ref if it was visible. I assumed it would be. But no, I was informed. The doll might even be inside a sofa cushion. I felt my anxiety intensify. I asked if I was allowed to rip open sofa cushions. The ref shrugged, unsure. How could he be unsure? Where was the real head honcho? What were the boundaries of the "game"? Was this a test? Who will win at what cost? Then I saw him. Honcho. He was off chatting with someone else who signed up to participate, but immediately thew up their hands and quit trying. The two of them were laughing in a cozy living room with hot cocoas. I was jealous. Why hadn't I thought of that?
When I was woke up I thought about the anecdote David Mamet (problematic!) ended his MasterClass with. People traveled from miles around to take a telepath test. Everyone stood in long lines, waiting to sign up for the test, all anxious, wondering if they were special. One person at the end of the line began fretting they wouldn't even make it to the front before the tests were to be administered. But then they heard. A little whisper. It said, "If you can hear this, step out of line and walk to the door at the back of the room."
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