Questions from Audiences of Larson’s One-Woman Show, DRIVING THE SAUDIS
How did you end up being a chauffeur after getting degrees from Cornell and Harvard? Frankly, I was desperate. I was a struggling actress and producer when a huge financial abyss gaped open in front of me that I should have seen coming but didn’t; I fell in, hard, and was forced to get a regular steady job that could bring in regular cash on a regular basis to get myself out of it. Strangely enough, I wasn't the only overly educated chauffeur on the job. I met a law student, a retired engineer, a sculptor from Yale – all moonlighting as drivers. We all do what we have to do to get by. But I didn’t tell my father until way after the fact; he would have been disappointed that all my education was being squandered.
Did you need any special training to be a chauffeur? Really, no! Which I found a tad unnerving; I’d always assumed chauffeurs had special training. There were a series of tedious written tests that I had to pass to determine how well I knew LA streets (without GPS) and if I was familiar with the best high-end restaurants, shops, and nightclubs. Then I had a mind-numbing week-long “training” session at the premier limousine company where I was first employed during which we studied traffic light patterns (so boring!), memorized the airlines and their gates at local airport terminals (more boring!), and practiced easing to a stop to assure a smooth ride for the client (somewhat useful).
If they don't allow women to drive in Saudi Arabia, why did they let you drive them here? And what did you have to wear? I was specifically hired by the royal family to drive a teenage princess; they preferred to surround her with women and I had heard that they were very happy that a woman might be available. However, they were puzzled that I was a chauffeur and not a concierge, a nanny, or a secretary. They were truly mystified that a woman would choose to be a chauffeur. I did not have to wear a black cloak, hair cover, and veil as people expect (nor did the Saudi women wear them here in the US, even though they must at home); but I was told to make sure that my neck, arms, legs, and ankles were modestly covered at all times.
How does your background in story development in film affect your work as a writer/performer? My experience with the Saudis was so unique that I wanted to capture every detail and great stories are made up of great detail, and often the truth is even stranger than fiction. I also believe very strongly in the power of a compelling narrative to convey important themes. I recognize that the creative process is often a collaborative process – whether it’s a film, a play, or a book. Although I’ve written this book myself and it has sometimes been a lonely process, it is the fascinating people who I met on the job, and the input of the talented people who have helped me put the story on the page that have hopefully elevated it to something way beyond what I could have done myself alone.
How were you able to make yourself invisible (to be the fly on the wall as you say) and how did you feel about that? At first I resented it (truthfully it even made me furious), but then realized that I could understand so much more of what was happening around me when I stopped talking and just took in what I saw and heard. It was a difficult adjustment for me, especially as an actress who was accustomed to demanding and getting a certain amount of attention, but it was an eye-opening experience. I highly recommend it – talk less and listen more, and the world opens up around you in unexpected ways.
Would you ever want to trade places with the women of the Saudi royal family? Except for maybe one glorious million dollar shopping spree day (assuming I could keep all the goods), I don't think I would ever want to switch places with a Saudi woman, there are too many constraints, internal as well as external from societal mores and family, and I don't think I could stand the pressure or limitations. I’m too much of a loose cannon and I’d undoubtedly end up in big trouble.
How did you end up being a chauffeur after getting degrees from Cornell and Harvard? Frankly, I was desperate. I was a struggling actress and producer when a huge financial abyss gaped open in front of me that I should have seen coming but didn’t; I fell in, hard, and was forced to get a regular steady job that could bring in regular cash on a regular basis to get myself out of it. Strangely enough, I wasn't the only overly educated chauffeur on the job. I met a law student, a retired engineer, a sculptor from Yale – all moonlighting as drivers. We all do what we have to do to get by. But I didn’t tell my father until way after the fact; he would have been disappointed that all my education was being squandered.
Did you need any special training to be a chauffeur? Really, no! Which I found a tad unnerving; I’d always assumed chauffeurs had special training. There were a series of tedious written tests that I had to pass to determine how well I knew LA streets (without GPS) and if I was familiar with the best high-end restaurants, shops, and nightclubs. Then I had a mind-numbing week-long “training” session at the premier limousine company where I was first employed during which we studied traffic light patterns (so boring!), memorized the airlines and their gates at local airport terminals (more boring!), and practiced easing to a stop to assure a smooth ride for the client (somewhat useful).
If they don't allow women to drive in Saudi Arabia, why did they let you drive them here? And what did you have to wear? I was specifically hired by the royal family to drive a teenage princess; they preferred to surround her with women and I had heard that they were very happy that a woman might be available. However, they were puzzled that I was a chauffeur and not a concierge, a nanny, or a secretary. They were truly mystified that a woman would choose to be a chauffeur. I did not have to wear a black cloak, hair cover, and veil as people expect (nor did the Saudi women wear them here in the US, even though they must at home); but I was told to make sure that my neck, arms, legs, and ankles were modestly covered at all times.
How does your background in story development in film affect your work as a writer/performer? My experience with the Saudis was so unique that I wanted to capture every detail and great stories are made up of great detail, and often the truth is even stranger than fiction. I also believe very strongly in the power of a compelling narrative to convey important themes. I recognize that the creative process is often a collaborative process – whether it’s a film, a play, or a book. Although I’ve written this book myself and it has sometimes been a lonely process, it is the fascinating people who I met on the job, and the input of the talented people who have helped me put the story on the page that have hopefully elevated it to something way beyond what I could have done myself alone.
How were you able to make yourself invisible (to be the fly on the wall as you say) and how did you feel about that? At first I resented it (truthfully it even made me furious), but then realized that I could understand so much more of what was happening around me when I stopped talking and just took in what I saw and heard. It was a difficult adjustment for me, especially as an actress who was accustomed to demanding and getting a certain amount of attention, but it was an eye-opening experience. I highly recommend it – talk less and listen more, and the world opens up around you in unexpected ways.
Would you ever want to trade places with the women of the Saudi royal family? Except for maybe one glorious million dollar shopping spree day (assuming I could keep all the goods), I don't think I would ever want to switch places with a Saudi woman, there are too many constraints, internal as well as external from societal mores and family, and I don't think I could stand the pressure or limitations. I’m too much of a loose cannon and I’d undoubtedly end up in big trouble.