It Had to Get Worse Before It Could Get Better

Our last day in Oklahoma City proved a lot more eventful than any of us would ever have predicted.

We had a fairly average morning matinee, with a fairly average morning audience. Then in the last three minutes of the show, unbeknownst to any of the cast or crew, our female understudy and my good friend and roommate, Megan, rolled her ankle in the finale, one of our most complicated and fast-moving pieces of choreography. Not until our wardrobe master extraordinaire (as I refer to him), John, was carrying her offstage in a princess hold did any of us realize something was wrong. Her ankle was Baby Bop colored green and the size of a tennis ball. She had to be taken to the closest hospital which apparently bore crosses in every room. Whether it be thanks to the intervention of a higher power or sheer luck, Megan was diagnosed with a sprained ankle and prescribed only a week rest from work. In the short time before our next show, we completely re-blocked the show so that our choreography wouldn't look lopsided, and I daresay it was a success. Nerve-wracking to a degree, but no major mishaps ensued. And in dinosaur costumes, that is no easy feat.

Partially to help wring in the first night on crutches, and partially because we were hungry, Megan and I decided to head out for one last good meal in Oklahoma City (they have great Italian food, and who knows what the next city will bring). We asked the concierge if they had a shuttle that could take us over to Bricktown, and we were told to head towards the back entrance. We did. Only to find a stretch white limousine awaiting us like a horse drawn carriage for princesses! We gladly hopped (literally) in, but not before taking a few pictures of our good fortune. We asked our driver, Cliff, to take us back to Spaghetti Warehouse, to which he scoffed, "Why do you want to go there?" We timidly replied, "Um, we thought it was good?" Apparently, we were incorrect. The best Italian restaurant in Bricktown is Zio's, and judging by the huge crowd and astonishing 25-minute wait to get a table, I would assume the rest of OKC is of the same opinion. And rightfully so. The bread was crisp on the outside, soft and buttery on the inside. The caprese salad was perfection, and the ricotta cheese in the vegetable lasagna was some of the best I've ever eaten (the vegetables were a bit too olive-y for my liking, but some may like that). Anyway, it soon became known amongst the waiters that we were from Barney Live!, and then they could not get enough of us. They all wanted to know how we started in theatre, where we were going next, what the show was like. One of the waiters had seen our previous night's performance with his young nephew and raved about it. Crutches and all, we were still the toasted ciabatta of Zio's, OKC's esteemed Italian empire. After a quick dip into the yogurt shop above the canal and a phone call to our driver, we were whisked back to our hotel like well-fed and favored royalty.

I never ran by the canal or lit the menorah for Hanukkah (none to be found), and Megan never did the last performance at the Cox Convention Center (actual name of our venue), but it was certainly an experience and a city we will never forget.