Kaetlin Perna
August 18, 2006

I saw the man who killed me, Sunday night. I remember that fateful August day he shot me in the head, beside a creek flowing into the lake. He had inhaled hair that he cut off from my head; it got stuck in the back of his throat. We drove off and I was dropped back off at my apartment that I was packing and cleaning before I moved to Arizona to finish school.

You see the man who killed me was an actor named, Vince Dalba, and I spent that morning filming a movie (as an actress) called "Bad Samaritan," wherein I play *insert dramatic music* VICTIM NUMBER 3, a hitchhiker who's insanely bad at acting. Okay, before you run to your local video store and/or update your Netflix/ BlockBuster Online (I have the latter) queue - you won't find it (you can look in the City Newspaper as its being sold through there). Vince was in a duo of one act plays playing at RoCo (Rochester Contemporary), this weekend in the East End.

I have no been to a play that wasn't related to my job or had a sense of sense of attachment to (a la the Wedding Singer on Broadway) sine college. I sat in on "Romeo, You idiot" by Tim Kockhenderfer, directed by Meredith Powell, the first of the one acts. It was a contemporary, comedic retelling of Romeo and Juliet. The story was fresh, the dialogue witty, the set was solid, where they set it even better (an art gallery!). I was in love with it all - this is what I want to do.

I saw Vince (my slayer of sorts), while admiring the enormous vagina on the wall, he was walking passed me, I turned around and said, "Hey, you killed me!" Other patrons of the show, looked at us quizzically. He looked at me closely, "Yeah - He (our director)'s been trying to get ahold of you." "For the Boxing thing?" I ask. "To get you a copy of the film." How odd; I think it's funny how two years later and we're in two totally different places in our lives.

Vince played Tybalt and a messed up Drug Dealer. And while I had no problems with the package of this first one act as a whole, I only had one problem: the pacing. Now, when I think of one-acts, I think a quick story no more than 45 minutes. Time after 45 begins to put in the in the full evening play territory. When Intermission let out, it neared at least 80 minutes. I felt slightly robbed, as one who aspires to write and direct one acts (I'm lazy, sue me), I feel I don't know what to believe anymore. Are they long? Are they short? Did I just see three acts? (Or was it five - Romeo and Juliet? That was Freshman English). That's not a one act, that's a five act! And they have the gaul to tell me there's an intermission. "There's another one?! I'm tired…" I thought, so I left, and I felt bad, but it was longer than it should have been.

It was a great show - I really loved the package, the tone, the mood, the art gallery but it just ran slow. Although, that can be blamed on various sources that shouldn't deter people from seeing the show, it could have just been that night. It's cute, it's fresh, and it where theatre should be going. I feel like borrowing that style from "Rochester's Black Sheep Theatre Coalition" and hitchhike it to New York. Although, maybe I'll get picked up by a "Bad Samaritan" and end up with a gun to my head. Maybe not.

**And for those itching to be in a one act yourself, "Poe Stories 2006," a series of one-act plays and monologues inspired by Mr. Edgar Allen Poe, are holding auditions at the New Life Presbyterian Church (corner of Monroe and Rosedale), September 11th and 12th from 7-10p. You might see me there.