Free Liquor, Love Amsterdam

12 Apr

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Sitting in horrifying Friday 5:00 traffic, northbound.

…Face in ten pounds of stage makeup, hair set in curlers, with a hanky wrapped round to seal in the heat, and sitting in my PT Cruiser…from the neck up, I look like a period prostitute…which is all the car occupants beside me can see.

The double-takes are priceless.

…I may look like a stripper, mister so-and-so, but remember, I’m a Lady.

(Wink, wink)

***

(Later)

Early to theatre for passing out Opening Night tokens.

…I like to give shots, for small casts.

First: because I have expensive taste, and second: because after living through Hell Week, everyone deserves a slug of something good.

…And I like to theme them, per character, based on what mine would give them. For this reason it can take me an hour rambling through a liquor store talking to myself. A highly attractive sight, ‘specially as undertaken today, in no makeup and sweats.

…But the inside joke giggle I give myself, is totally worth it:

For Putti (Mr. VD): A Bushmill and a decent stogie…his finest desires now seen to.

Mr Frank: Hennessey, as brought as a present and presented on stage in act 1.

Mrs. Frank: Grey Goose. For the neat, quiet, near absence of any kick.

Margot (actual age, mid-20’s): Cake vodka, for her youth.

Mr. Kraler: 1800 Gold…and Meip: 1800 Silver…for all it costs to keep us there.

Our kilt-wearing Director: Glenfiddich, 12 year….and our SM: Chives Regal, 12 year…for all the years of time it feels like we’ve been rehearsing to get here tonight.

Mr. Dussel: Queens own Bombay Sapphire…cuz all he needs is a strong woman to straighten him out.

…For the minors in cast and crew, I scored unbelievably, with cookies and candies from Amsterdam…thanks to World Market.

***
(Later, later)

Marty and I, post show, drinkin’ vino, eatin’ chips, talkin’ shit, and wachin’ Vicar of Dibley.

…Sheer…Joy 🙂

…Missed the hell outta her.

…Tomorrow: greasey breakfast of champions.

Hooray for Openings, and friends 🙂

~D

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