don't judge a book

salmon, idaho. jan 15th. day 12 of roading.

we. were. terrified.
salmon, idaho, was a town of about 500. we were performing in city hall, next to the elderly home. we stayed at a place called the stagecoach inn, which is exactly what you think it's like. we passed the venue the night before we had to perform in it, and - well, essentially? - panicked.

100 people were coming.
we called second city and asked if we had considered doing a scriptless, a show where we do only improv and games for more community-oriented venues. they said they booked the real show. after our experience in lander and 12 days on the road, we were nervous. i was markedly the least nervous, because i was sure i had done shows in worse places, but certainly not a show like this one.

boy, were we all wrong about salmon.
salmon was hungry as hell to see a show like ours. it was a community of shut down mines and old fishing industry, and also a community of artists who purely did art for arts sake.

fuck us.
we were assholes about salmon.
salmon ruled.
the whole trip, in this tiny community center with 100 people, this was the most appreciative, laughingest, kindest audience we had ever had on the trip.

after the show and improv set was complete, we met lots of members of the community, one of which was annie, a masseuse and therapist in the area. annie BROUGHT HER TABLE TO THE STAGECOACH INN AND GAVE HALF THE CAST MASSAGES AND ACCUPUNCTURE.

salmon.
for real?
yes.