I was standing completely naked on stage, well, except for shoes and a hat. The hat covered the goods, but now I had to turn my bare butt to the audience. What would all my friends think?
My mind raced and suddenly I remembered what my wife always said. "Robbie, you need to start your stories at the beginning. You always begin in the middle, and no one knows what you're talking about."
So, I'll try to make some sense. I'm not quite sure where the beginning is, but I definitely know the ending. It is with the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.
So let me try to put this tale in some order.
I'd always enjoyed the theater. At Dartmouth I was part of the theater group, appearing in many productions. Never a lead, I usually was a reliable minor character or crowd fill-in. Having a decent voice, I always made the chorus. So, after graduating, starting a career and settling down, I became active in our local theater.
A number of years ago, the community rallied to preserve an old vaudeville theatre from the wrecking ball. We raised money to buy, refurbish and establish it with a modest endowment that could keep most of the wolves from the door. About ten years ago, we hired a professional manager, and she began producing a mixture of plays that brought in the audiences to put our theater on sound financial footing. She would throw in the occasional drama or avant-garde play, but our bread and butter were musical comedies.
I volunteered to serve on the board, and then slowly became involved in many of the productions. The closest I came to a starring role was being the Narrator for Dicken's A Christmas Carol. Otherwise, I was a bit player or helped with stage management, something I enjoyed.
How I came to be standing naked on stage in front of 900 people had its roots in a discussion with Sarah, our executive director. She invited me to lunch at an upscale deli next to the theater.
"Robbie, we need a real AIS," she said.
"AIS?"
"Yeah, asses in seats," she replied grinning. "Our spring shows didn't bring in the revenues we expected. If we don't have a boffo production this summer, we're looking at a deficit."
I nodded and nibbled on my pastrami sandwich. Tin Pan Alley had the best pastrami in the state, and they charged accordingly for it.
"So, I'm putting up The Full Monty."
My eyes widened as I tried to swallow the bite in my mouth.
"Sarah, don't you think that's a bit on the wild side for us. I mean there's nudity in it."
"Just male nudity," she said as if that made all the difference in the world.
"Still," I argued, "we're known as a family-friendly venue. I think some of our patrons might be upset."
"Robbie, I spoke with Debbie Callahan, you know her, she manages the Capital City Theatre."
I nodded.
"Well, they put on The Full Monty two years ago and had three sold out weekends. I mean every freaking seat in the place. And, they hiked the ticket price five bucks across the board. Made a killing."
I quickly computed what that would mean to us and understood that Sarah made an excellent economic point.
"But, what about the shock of the Palladium doing it?"
"Look, we'll promote it with a caution. Let everyone know up front that the show contains nudity. That will warn parents not to take their kids, plus it will draw in people who normally wouldn't be caught dead in our house. Just imagine all the ladies' book clubs reserving whole sections of the theater." We both laughed.
"Ok, you're making sense. Why are you pitching me?"
"For two reasons," she replied. "One, everyone on the board respects you. You're a smart guy, and you've been around since the beginning."
"Oh, you mean I'm old," I said with a smile.
"Hell, Robbie, you aren't old, it's just you are one of the leaders who have kept us going all these years. Really, the board listens to you. If you said putting up The Full Monty was the right thing to do, they'd go along."
Without falling into an overblown sense of self-worth, I knew she was right. I was the most senior member of the board in terms of years of service. The other members knew I always kept what was best for our theater in the forefront. If I supported Sarah, I knew the rest of the board would give it serious consideration.
"Ok, what's the second reason you're treating me to this delicious and expensive hot pastrami?"
Sarah gave me a sly smile.
"Oh, I'm paying for lunch?"
"Tight budget you know," she said.
We both laughed. I always paid for our meals together.
"So, what else is in that devious mind? I can see the wheels turning and that usually frightens me."
Sarah took a long sip from her iced tea.
She turned her wide, blue eyes to me, flashed her warmest and engaging smile and said, "I want you in the show."
If this were a sit-com this would be the part where I spit my drink all over the table. Instead, I choked on my sandwich. I coughed up a hunk of pastrami and discreetly hid it in my napkin.
"What?"
"You've seen the movie, right?"
"Yes, it's been a while, but I have."
"Remember the Tom Wilkinson character, Gerald?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, he's one of the guys and he's bit older than the rest."
"Ah, back to me being nearly senile."
"You know that rhymes with 'penile'" Sarah said with a laugh. I shook my head, and stared at her.
"Robbie, you'd be great for the role. I mean here you are, a pillar of the community, and you'd be willing to do a turn in the buff. God, it will make casting the rest of the show a snap. Plus, you know you don't really show the 'full Monty'. You keep that part covered with a hat. You do get so show your sweet butt, though."
I thought my butt was probably at least a decade past sweet. I continue to exercise, and try to keep some muscle tone, but no one would confuse my ass with that of a twenty or thirty year old.
"Flattery may get you somewhere, Sarah, but I'm not sure that it will get me naked on the stage."
