So I was asked to write a car play for, well, Car Plays, an evening of plays in cars presented in Costa Mesa each year. I really did not know what to expect, but it was basically one of those most invigorating theater experiences I’ve had in a REAL long time. You start with a row of five cars, Parked front to bumper. You and your theater going buddy — preferably someone you’re comfortable enough to be pressed against while a masked actor calls you both ASSHOLES! or dramatically lays himself across you –move from car to car, play to play. You hop in one car – either in the back, the front, one in each, depending on the play – the valets / carhops shut the doors, and — the play begins. Around you, next to you, inbetween you. Awkward high schoolers are trapped in a mini-van on a first date. A chubby teenager tries to skip a cab fare. A mother drops her daughter off at college. And, well, there you are, trapped in this moment with them. Immersive theater tends to make me real hivey, but there was something about this specific experience that made me relax into it completely, and just observe. Cry even. You’re forced to listen closely, a voyeur, buckled in. Car plays should happen everywhere, and all of the time.