THE PLAN
In February, Lindsay celebrated her 19th birthday. And in all honesty I forgot until myspace told me. So I felt like a bad friend & asked her to tell me what she wanted. After the Christmas candy she got from me, she was convinced that she wanted me to bake her something. I decided not to tell her that while I can make some of the best damn candy there is, baking is NOT on my resume & I ran out to the store & got mix, icing, decorations, coloured stuff, icing decorating tips, a cake caddy & a Snickers bar to kill the craving to lick fingers. And I made her some candy – because it was what prompted the idea. But for some reason, it wasn't enough to throw a little party in the Glen with a few friends & I told her to pick a Broadway show 'cause I was going to take her to see one. She was thrilled & chose Avenue Q. After a bit of scolding for making such plans on impulse, my mother allowed me to drive up to NYC despite the fact that I only got my license in February. Tickets were bought, a date was set, & we were excited for our first college road trip.
THE ICING
Well, the icing was just blue . . . but this is the icing on the metaphorical cake. I couldn't leave things at that. I really am insane. I have some sort of weird birthday complex, I guess . . . I remember I had a friend who forgot my birthday twice, got me earrings for one & got me a journal for another. And all four years I knew her, I wrapped her locker & got her wonderful presents. One year I filled her locker with balloons after checking with the teacher of hr first class who said it was okay if she was a little late – those balloons were obnoxious . . . but colourful . . . & sweet. Another year I filled it with candy. Another, there was a surprise party with a huge butter cream frosting sheet cake. One year I took her to the mall & took mental notes & bought everything she commented on. I don't learn. I just love the smiles. I could do without the hugs, but I love making people happy. So, anyway, back to the icing . . . I wanted it to be better. So I contacted a Broadway actor & invited him to lunch. As two theatre majors, I thought we'd thoroughly enjoy it as well as learn a lot. Turns out he's on the other side of the country working on a new show. Woops.
So I contacted John Bolton, an actor in Curtains. My FAVOURITE show on Broadway . . . well . . . to date, anyway. I saw it once from the second row as a graduation present. There was a song called "Show People" about the trill of being onstage & I melted into tears. In high school, NO ONE was as enthusiastic as I was about acting. It was such a small community . . . & the song put feelings into words that I've never experienced outside of my own being. Also I happened to see it the week before I performed in a show in my first comedy role which happened to be greatly influenced by David Hyde Pierce. The second time I went, I was trying to share it with a friend who wound up bailing, but her mother came with me & enjoyed it thoroughly. The third time, I took a friend to her FIRST Broadway show & it was this one. She is an actress as well & enjoyed it very much. She was so cute too . . . the show has a show in it & the first scene is from the show within the show . . . she leaned over & whispered, "Is this a preview?" Luckily my loud, unseemly laugh coincided with the appropriate timing for a laugh.
Gee, can you say, 'tangent'? So, anyway, I contacted John Bolton whom I friended on myspace some time ago. I did a design paper on Curtains & he was very helpful . . . he answered a lot of questions for me & I aced the paper – but I kind of assumed he thought I was obnoxious, so while I asked him to lunch, I doubted he'd go for it. He responded saying that Saturdays had a wonky schedule for him & he couldn't . . . then he invited us backstage after the show. My first thought was, fuck, yeah!!! But it seemed so rude to see one show & go backstage at another . . . on Broadway, that's about as close as you can get to theatre hopping. So before I politely declined, I checked with Lindsay . . . because she could go either way. There's the fuck, yeah approach & then there's the approach of not necessarily wanting to book it down the street after that show to meet a stranger & get a tour backstage of a show she didn't pick to see. She was as thrilled as she could be in her situation , which – if I remember correctly – was staying up all night with a sick horse keeping it standing upright & administering belly rubs, IMing me from her phone. So I thanked John profusely & accepted the offer.
THE SETUP
Friday night, Lindsay spent the night. She made me watch Memoirs of a Geisha & I made her watch Saw . . . which she was very angry about. Personally, I think it's brilliant. It's an intellectual thriller & has maybe one scene that bothers the squeamish types. She blamed me for her nightmares. We went to bed far too late & got up at 5:15 to get ready & leave. My mother did that thing where she asked ALL the questions, even the stupid ones. Do you have the keys? Yes, mom. Do you have the tickets? It's will call, mom. Do you have something to drink? I have money, mom. Do you have ALL your money? Yes, mom. Do you have the camera? Yeah. Do you have the battery IN the camera? Yes, mom.
Now, I hate driving – which is why I took so long to get my license. Highway driving is a little easier than anything else, but I still get unnecessarily tense. I have NO navigation skills, but luckily, while it's four hours away, NYC is pretty much four turns away. So, we're on the turnpike & we're singing to pass the time & I've got maybe two more exits before the Lincoln Tunnel exit & I'm on the left because one, I want to stay away from the exits when I'm not going to ext, & two, I'm really booking. I never saw the left exit. The road just split & I saw the turnpike go by in the passenger side window. And I wound up in
LUNCH
We decided to have lunch at Red Lobster. As we waited for it to open, we decided to do a little, people watching to pass the time & for me to take my mind off the pain in my feet. God forbid I should wear sneakers to NYC . . . I decided I'd rather wear stiletto heel boots. Oh, & remember those, they come back later. The SECOND we decided to start picking out guys, the busy streets of NYC became EMPTY. After staring at a completely empty sidewalk for at least two minutes, people started to pass by . . . not ONE creature that could be considered attractive to humans. So Lindsay started whispering smartass comments like, "Oh, that's a keeper" & "I'd do him . . ."
We had a wonderful lunch. Lindsay had earlier said that she'd never been to Red Lobster, but she'd had the biscuits (two days old) & said that she couldn't see what the big deal was. I tried to tell her that the freshness made all the difference. Initially, she wouldn't believe me, but by the end of the meal, they were nicknamed 'crack biscuits' & she was addicted. She cursed me for it. "Damnit, Ripley, I'm gonna be craving one of these at 3 am tonight!"
THE SHOW
The show was wonderful. I was glad to not have heard the soundtrack ahead of time. I spent a great deal of the time laughing. It was only 5 minutes into the show before I completely forgot how badly the woman next to me smelled. Lindsay & I wound up getting a crush on the same actor . . . that made for an interesting after-show conversation.
SPOILER!!SPOILER!!SPOILER!!SPOILER!!SPOILER!!SPOILER!!SPOILER!!
We absolutely loved the Bad Idea Bears. They came on a few times randomly & gave really bad advice. "You could HANG yourself" "You could play a drinking game . . . who can finish their drink the fastest! It's a tie . . . . REMATCH!!!!" There was a line that was something like, "sitting in the quad thinking God . . . I could be anything." referring to college. I cried. Partially because I'm there. I COULD be anything. Partially because the character was there . . . & look at him now . . . on Avenue Q. And partially because the ACTOR was there . . . & look at HIM now!! Exactly where I want to be!! And I could be successful. I could also be a complete failure. SO I don't know if they were happy tears or sad tears . . . it was more like a cocktail party in my tear ducts for all the emotions. (By the way . . . picture that . . .)
GETTING BACKSTAGE
Yes, I checked before I accepted the offer – Curtains is longer than Avenue Q. And just down the street. So we head down after the show & stand outside the theatre. Lindsay starts to get nervous. And then she sees a picture of John. "He looks scary . . . I'm gonna try & find a picture of him where he's not scary . . ." She failed. After a while, we heard rhythmic clapping coming from the theatre & figured that meant curtain call. I called my mother again to let her know that the theatre wasn't bombed or anything & that we were getting ready to go backstage. While I was on the phone, one of the bodyguards or . . . doormen . . . or . . . something . . . started peeking at me from around the corner in front of the door. He looked really suspicious & I was on the phone so I couldn't just say, "I'm on the backstage list & waiting for the show to end." So I flashed him a big 'I'm-not-trying-to-be-inconspicuous' smile & he stopped peeking. When I was off the phone I went to approach the door & pass on the information . . . & he slipped inside. So Lindsay & I stood while a line of fans formed around us. A few 15 year old blondes started gushing & we relocated. I waited, the bodyguard/doorman/whatever came out again & I gave a big grin & a little wave to get his attention. Nothing. And then, he went back inside! So I decided that a little boldness wouldn't kill me. I went & stood where I would have gotten in trouble & a different BG/DM/WE came out & gave a polite, "Can I help you?" & I told him we were on the list. He went & checked & beckoned us into the theatre. He had us stand in a corner & wait for John.
Here's where I get nervous. I can see the set & the stage & I'm dying. My knees are dangerously unstable & to occupy myself, really more than actually giving Lindsay information, I tell her who the actors play as they pass. Jason Danieley didn't need an introduction . . . Lindsay seemed to be getting less nervous. My heart was stopping every time someone came down the stairs. I didn't know what to say, I was suddenly wishing I had a brush to run through my hair & I was feeling incredibly intrusive. I was worried that John was simply putting up with us & didn't quite feel welcome.
When John got to us, I felt much more comfortable. He was very friendly, took his time – even though he had somewhere to be - & thanked US for coming. A few times he apologized in case he was boring us. I have no idea how anything he shared could possibly be anything resembling boring. He showed us around the theatre, shared tidbits about both the show & the theatre, let us hold a prop, showed us costumes, explained the workings backstage, shared plan B's & struck Lindsay & I as fun & sweet. I no longer thought him irritated with me, she no longer thought him scary. He showed us the orchestra pit . . . up a set of grated stairs. Remember the aforementioned stiletto heel boots? Yeah, that was fun. I had to stay on tiptoes or I'd get stuck. And I did once. I later realized that I popped off the little tiny piece of sole on the heel & exposed the metal bone of the heel . . . & instead of the stereotypical click, click, click, click that made you think a teacher was coming when you were little, turned into click, CLACK, click, CLACK. Luckily the boots were so worn that shortly afterwards, the other heel fell off. So now I'm a little more annoying when I walk by, but I'm no longer lopsided.
When we finished, we headed back to the stage door where there was a table of five or six hands of bananas & John walked by them & said, "These are our Saturday bananas . . ." & he picked up a hand & thrust it at Lindsay, comically close to her face & sounded way too excited when he said, "Want a banana?!" And if that's not absurd & amusing enough, Lindsay's response was priceless . . . she sounded incredibly cautious when she said, "Um . . . no thanks . . ." Right before we leave, I stopped to say Happy Birthday & right before I did, I thought it to be to self-promotion-y, so I told John to wish Lindsay a happy birthday & I knew he'd have the reaction that everyone does, which is, "today?" & was right on top of it with telling him that no, it wasn't today. He asked when it was & here, I was given my chance to look like a jerk before I left. My mind did something like this . . . .
Shit . . . when was her birthday, it was last month . . . in the Glen . . . on a Monday, because I had time to make the cake . . . hey, she still hasn't given me my cake caddy back . . . that was expensive . . . um . . . jeez, I'm a bad friend . . . I should have a date . . .
So I decided to say that it was just last month. But instead of saying "last month" like a bright person would do, I went & tried to name the month. In all the nerves & adrenaline, I forgot the order of the months & said it was in April. I passed second grade, I swear. Lindsay was right on top of it & said, "It was in FEBRUARY!! You threw me a party!" Like I'd actually forgotten that it had already passed. I may be stupid, but I'm not crazy.
Anyway, John wished her a happy birthday & gave her a big hug, which by the way, was pretty funny because she's 5'4" & he's up over 6 feet & he just enveloped her.
THE AFTERSHOCK
We left the theatre & started walking. Tears welled in my eyes & Lindsay said, "You just died & went to heaven didn't you?"
"Yes, I did." I was on a Broadway stage & while the circumstances were very different, that's exactly where I'm steering my life. And speaking of steering, it took a good ten feet to realize that we were walking in the wrong direction. We turned around & headed to the car. Both in a daze.
THE RIDE HOME
At the car, I called to let my mother know that we were both still okay, that John wasn't actually a murderer. And she asked for another check when I got out of the tunnel . . . so we called & let her know that the
More chatting, more singing, & after a few yawns & a report that Lindsay needed a bathroom, we stopped again, went to the bathroom & got some food. I took a caffeine pill & we sat & ate at a table less sanitary than my toilet seat. It was a Burger King, but they didn't have cheesey tots. I'm not usually a fast food person, but cheesey tots are SO good. When Lindsay said, "what are cheesey tots?" I said "You haven't had cheesey tots?!" She laughed her ass off & gave me a hard time for being so shocked & sounding like she killed someone.
Back on the 95, I couldn't find my exit. The only direction my mother gave me was, "It's NOT exit 67." Thanks ma. That narrows into down to about 100 exits. Out came the Easy Navigator again & we got home, told my mother about our day, & crashed.
CHEESEY TOTS
Sunday, we met with the other people in our theatre history group to work on a project. I was feeling generous so I got Starbucks, Burger King, & doughnuts for everyone. And Lindsay tasted the cheesey tots. "DAMNIT RIPLEY!!! Stop giving me all this crack food!!!" Apparently, she liked them. We finished the project faster than we all thought. Abby & I had some dinner & she spent the night. We watched Invasion & stayed up til 2 am watching videos.
THE FRISBEE
Monday, I was playing Frisbee with Abby & Mallory, winding down after the presentation of my lighting project which, by the way, went marvelously. Abby threw it & it curve horribly & went way over my head. I chased it, I was running full speed & staying under the Frisbee, it was going to be a glorious catch, it grazed my hands & hit the ground, I took that extra step & my foot went through the Frisbee. Laughter erupted & I immediately threw myself on the Frisbee like a child yelling, "Don't look, don't look." & through the laughter I heard, "we HEARD it, Ripley!!" So I just bought Abby a new Frisbee . . . which in winter is no small feat. Thank God for Wal-Mart & their year-round summer stuff. I still feel bad though . . . that Frisbee has been on her wall for so long . . . & it's in her facebook pictures . . . that Frisbee was epic . . . (that's for you, Linds.)
K, so that last section didn't really have anything to do with the weekend, but I found it to be note-worthy.
Have a good week, everyone. And bless you if you actually READ all of that nonsense. You're very tolerant. :)
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