I'm doing something new. I'm in a show, a musical, on a stage, and I'm freaking out.
It's community theater, it's not great, but not bad. Our leads are good, the choral directors is wonderful, our choreographer is pretty (and patient with a 1st-timer like me).
Others have written extensively about their wonderful adventures in theatre, I carry all those thoughts with me as I walk in each night, but in my case, nothing's going to happen, but I can dream.
The cutest one is the youngest one, 17.83 years old, a very good dancer, wears adorable sexy outfits without realizing it (maybe) and is friendly. At my age, I have to be careful. I'm the new guy, and I can't turn in to "that guy" on my first show. It was all I could do to NOT mention to her that her bra strap, which peaked out from under a silky camisole, wasn't hooked right. (The bottom two eyelets didn't line up with the top one, but NO, I didn't mention it, nor did I reach over and fix it for her."
Our dance captain is animated, a great singer, very funny in the funny parts, and lives and dances in yoga pants so THANK YOU, for that.
Most of the rest are older, like me. Dancers and wanna-be actors who are well past their prime but still have the legs and energy to rehearse for 3 hours a night until the curtain comes up. I've never been on stage like this. I've been in bands, orchestras, and choirs, but those groups hold still, and all I have to do is look pretty and smile during the applause. Now I have to sing, and dance, and move around, and remember lines, and then move again, and TRY TRY TRY not to sing along into my mic with the leads when they do the songs I love so much.
Now, I know people fool around, fall in and out of love and have showmances that only last the length of the engagement. We called them BTRs in high school. Band Trip Romances started when you got on the bus, were solidified the first lunch stop, and got sealed with a kiss during free time between dinner and curfew on the first night on the road. They magically dissolved as the bus returned home, couples, without a word being said, drifted apart as the "miles to home" count got smaller and smaller. Upon pulling into the high school parking lot, final kisses landed on cheeks instead of lips, hands drifted apart, and we all returned to the real world.
I get that.
However, last night, while blocking a party scene, I got paired up with R. The director said, "Lean in over her like you're making a pass at her, and don't be surprised if she slaps you." That got a laugh from the cast, and we played it off. R and I have chatted, but not talked. She complimented (noticed) my haircut, and we say hi to each other as we arrive at the theater for rehearsal. She's short, slim, pretty, talented, and was dressed in a short dance skirt with modesty shorts underneath and a tight Lycra top that showed her small breasts were unencumbered by a bra, almost a sports bra, it left her midriff bare.
As we played out the scene, we leaned into each other, closer than we would have ever been in polite conversations. When our focus in the scene shifts from each other to the leads who have dialogue, she leaned against me and my arm went around her, my hand landing on her bare skin and the point of her hip. We ran the scene several times. Each time I leaned in close, tried to crack a joke, and then pulled her under my arm, a loving couple at a happy party.
It's easy to see how artificial intimacy can cloud your thinking. She had already shown up in my shower thoughts, I had noticed her athletic legs, her quick feet, and her bright smile. Now I get to have a moment, staged for sure, but close, intimate, and quite wonderful.
So, I have to keep my head straight. I can't say anything stupid. It's acting, that's all, right?
