Reflections From Opening Night


 

“Nice balls!”

“Hey man, nice balls!”

“Ha ha, balls.”

Andy is precariously navigating the complicated escalator system at Piper’s Alley while carrying two enormous stability balls from the gym next door. On his trek back to the theater, everyone is a comedian except the trained comedian, who is struggling to hold both enormous orbs. It’s half an hour until show time.

Meanwhile, John is frantically clacking away at Andy’s office computer, trying to get the word “POOP” to print in a large, readable font. Bookman Antique? Arial Black? Courier New? What makes “POOP” look best? Oh, and ¬†better bold that shit, pronto.

And yes, both items of business are very integral to the show.

It’s opening night! Will anyone be in the crowd? Will they like us? Will John remember all his transitions? Will Andy remember his lines? Will we scare the crowd with our intense gayness?

Dujuan, the endlessly awesome tech guy, is a bastion of cool and calm. “Ten minutes!”

Andy and John are running around like toddlers in day care, touching everything. Are all our props in place? Are we forgetting anything? What comes after this scene? What comes before that scene? Did we cut that line?

Opening night is like being dropped from an airplane. You just hope the parachute opens and you can make a safe landing.

“Five minutes!”

Andy wants to run another scene really fast. John wants to clear his mind. Oh, hey, we haven’t really checked in with each other.

“I love you, boo.”

A kiss.

“I love you too.”

The sounds of a decent-sized crowd can be heard. People are here! Perhaps a reviewer! They’re going to love us! They’re going to hate us!

“Places!”

We’re standing behind the stage, each at our entrance. The music pulses. What comes first? What comes second? What’s our group called? Where am I? Did I just wake up? Am I wearing underwear?

And it s GO! GO! GO!

And in a blink, it’s over and people are applauding. Cheering. Did we just….is it over? Already? We did it?

We did it! It happened! We birthed our 45-pound baby, wiped it clean and named it Pinque Pony.

Friends stop in back stage to congratulate us, Dujuan says great show, our director is all smiles, our shirts are all sweat, our giant balls are rolling around somewhere and need to be returned.¬†It’s done. We did it.

It’s off to a lesbian bar to have a beer and then sleep for 100 years. Oh, the magic of show business.