Down in the Trenches with Blessed Contessa Part I

Out in the Trenches with Blessed Contessa Part I
There are many lessons Contessa has come across that have lead her to who she is today. Some have kept her under the covers wrapped up in silks and lace for days, and others that ended in lifetime sentences of confinement.

As of late there have been experiences that are unexplained and I presume would like to stay that way. I suppose it would lose it’s magical mysticism if I could explain it all. So here a tale, a magical tragedy.

I was floating on a ship far to big for it’s waters, with a rascally crew of over tired ladies. Everyone was beautifully made up with days of black charcoal smudged eyes and feathery pale north blown skin. We love being on this ship heading North through the isles of Scandinavia, and look forward to the comforts of beds and sheets. A whole floating world, our home for ten precious hours. Time enough to sleep, eat and play. A ship moving slow enough we can see every tree we pass by. Traveling at a pace where the mind can actually soak up what it wants.

Everyone slowly dragged themselves up to the mess hall for some eats. I was sharing a room with Captain Maggots. I made the mistake of not waking up the Captain before getting food, and she promptly gave me a nasty bite on the arm. A habit that was making me quite sore. The bite is starting to turn a bluish green, but her teeth are coated in alcohal so I presume a clean wound. We knew our time on the ship was closing near, so the Captain and I went to the top deck to take in the blustery air. The movement of air and scenery was intoxicating, and although it tried to blow off our clothes, we were oblivious to the cold. We sat there for the remaining hours pondering every house that stood on those islands pretending we were arriving home. Too many houses and industry suddenly came into the picture which was are cue that port was minutes away. Finding our way back down to the cabins to gather our things can take longer than anyone would think. That’s part of the reason I love these boats. You can get lost in the belly of this ship and not come up for days.

We finally made it to the six hundred corridor and half the population was lugging their suitcases into an already squashed hallway. I decided to stand still for a moment and watch this mass exodus, which carried with it all sorts of anxiety and strain. Rug rats not moving fast enough for their parents. Groups trying to raggle in all of their party. All amidst ceilings that aren’t tall enough for some of these strapping vikings that stomp down one-way corridors.

As I wait for my turn to move in this cog, a short stout man comes to stand beside me. As he fumbles for his wallet and room key, he’s stuck staring at the ceiling one foot above him. His neck was so large and fat that his entire head was pointing in the direction of the ceiling. If he wanted to look in another direction he had to turn his whole body. His energy engulfed me and I was poignantly aware of his every move. He started to make guttural throat sounds as if getting ready to cough, but they were slightly to sharp for a impending lung evacuation. As this sound came out I naturally turned my head toward him. A natural human condition. If something seems unfamiliar we look to check it out. As our eyes came together he locked my feet into the ground with his powerful yet peculiar presence, and proceeded to cluck like a chicken. Having raised chickens in my lifetime, there was no questioning his disposition was fake or manipulated in any way. For about five very long seconds this creature tried to communicate with me by… clucking. When he had said what he needed to say, he shifted his eyes down over his neck lump and finally found his key. As he took the three steps to his door (which was right next to mine) and shut out claustrophobic hallway, I was left paralyzed and dumb. Slowly all the shuffling and footsteps started to come back, and I was aware once again that I was standing in a ship with hundreds of people clamouring to get off. Still utterly baffled and agog, I saw the captain had gathered all of her things and was slamming them into the small door jams that were about her size. I didn’t say a word to anybody and went to gather my things. I was still trapped in that moment of interaction and was replaying it over and over in my head. It wasn’t until I was in a breezy spacious lobby on the shores of Finland, sitting on a pile of suitcases that I snap back into the present.

The logistics of finding our home on wheels and continuing on to the venue for the evening was enough to occupy my mind for the next few hours. All of the sudden it came to me very clearly that I had encountered a non-human. Not only encountered, because I’m sure that happens multiple times a day, but that he had chosen to communicate with me in his foreign form. The way in which he spoke was more than a casual formality. He had something very important and heavy to say, and he told it to me.

All of the sudden I was struck with great remorse and regret. I had just stood there with my mouth pursed together in severe shock. I had the opportunity to communicate with an unknown quite freakish creature. A moment that could be recorded as once in a lifetime, and I had no response. Filtering it down to fear, shock, don’t entice the weirdo when there’s nowhere to run syndrome, I had locked up in my human way and disengaged.

I felt privileged and defeated all at once. This was my entrance into Scandinavia and it was only the first day. In the religion of Improv…rule number one, is always…always say YES! Yes, is the answer to everything. I had stood in a grand spotlight and done the unbelievable. I screamed a big fat “NO,” with my silence.

How do I ever redeem myself from this catastrophe that seemed to glide by without my knowledge. It was apparent I was in another world now, and surely, I wouldn’t let another stranger slip by.

I was relieved from my self made beat down in the throws of getting ready for the show that evening. I wasn’t to be left alone for long……..

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