Play whom?

Last night, I dreamed that I was performing in A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  I was performing in a theater that I had been in another dream.  I had been cast as Bob Cratchit and was waiting on rehearsals and the script.

I don't recall the details of my previous dream in this theater, except that it was a Broadway show that I had never heard of, but I had a very minor role.  As such, I wasn't given a script or time to rehearse.  I was supposed to simply appear at the performances, ready to go.  If you're confused by how I could be ready without a script, join the club.

History tends to repeat itself.  Again, I hadn't been given a script or a rehearsal schedule.  I was called on the first day of the performance, asking where I was.  I came directly over to the theater and got into my costume.  Before my first scene, I attempted to find a copy of the script so that I could get an idea about what I needed to do, who the other characters were -- anything.  However, there were no scripts to be had.  The other actors were either guarding theirs or there really were no scripts for anyone.

I had maybe 10 minutes during which time I looked through the men's dressing room, spoke to a couple technical hands, and found one of the directors, and none of them seemed remotely concerned with the fact that I had never gotten anything I needed to perform.  They were only concerned with the fact that I was going to be late to the stage if I focused too much on trying to find a script.  I kept looking for as long as I could, and I was finally grabbed by one of the backstage hands, taken to stage right and told that I was on in 3-2-1, and shoved out onto the stage.

I fumbled around for a few seconds.  It was the scene at Old Fezziwig's house, when Scrooge was a young man.  (Avid Dickens fans will note that Bob Cratchit is not in that scene and that I would have missed a few significant scenes that Bob Cratchit is in.)  I joined a few other people at a table, and the focus of the stage became our table, as the other actors on it became noticeably louder and carried on a conversation.  I fumbled around with Dickens-style sentences and then made a comment about how I had had too much to drink and needed to go home to sleep it off, but that I wished them a very merry Christmas, full of joy!  I stumbled off stage and resumed my hunt for a script.

I woke up very shortly thereafter in a cold sweat.