So the other day I was working at my job in times square (in the rain, fun). Now for this job, I have to be engaging, outgoing and fun, three states of being that I have never managed to attain at the same time (not taking into account the fact that i have to engage with strangers who look at me with an expression that tells me I’ve either grown an extra head or pissed in their Starbucks cup). In order to do this without losing my mind, I try to find ways to engage myself. Some of the ways I’ve achieved this include singing to myself (mostly songs I’m working on for my audition book or random pop or rap songs), making smart and quirky yet non insulting comments, or my personal favorite and the one I rely on the most, improvising tap moves. A wee bit of context: I’ve always wanted to take tap dancing classes and improve myself, but up until a year ago, when I put on a pair of tap shoes I was like that character from Best In Show who literally had two left feet. At the beginning of 2016, I began taking private lessons, which in turn gave me the confidence to begin attending classes on a regular basis. And while I’m no Gregory Hines, I can safely say I’ve come a long way in a year. So, when I’m at my job trying to draw people in, I like to practice random tap related moves despite the lack of actual taps on my shoes (side note: for those of you who tap dance and live in apartment buildings, I feel your pain). It’s a tactic that’s given me a lot of joy in my work and has gotten a good chuckle out of passersby. In short, it’s gotten people’s attention. However, apparently it’s also attracted some attention I’d rather not have, which leads me to today’s story. So I was out on the field, doing my thing, and suddenly my attention was drawn to a man in an uber car parked nearby. He was beckoning me to come over, and while I do like to think the best of people, I’m not that stupid, so I stood right where I was. However I was close enough that I could see him pull out his phone in order to show me something. He started playing a video on his phone, and a knot formed in my stomach as a recognized myself on the video, at work and doing my thing. “This is you, from a while back” he said in the type of voice that one would associate with a cartoon ogre. I was genuinely speechless, staring with my jaw clenched as he sat there staring at me with what I could only describe as a shit eating grin. I quickly walked away from the spot, foolishly not getting his plate number or going over and deleting the video, though in retrospect I think doing the latter might have been unwise. As I walked away, my cynical side kept saying “You should get used to this. You’re an actor, you should be happy that someone thought you were interesting and attractive enough to film.” However, the sensitive, more Aspie like side of me kept saying “It isn’t right that a complete stranger filmed you without you knowing, kept the video for that long, then showed it to you most likely in an attempt to get a rise out of you. God knows why he even kept that video.” While both arguments may be valid, you can’t deny the fact that being filmed by a random stranger without your knowledge is a bit chilling (even my mom, who normally thinks I overreact to everything, found it creepy). In hindsight, it sounds like something Hitchcock would make into a movie were he alive today.