Trudy's In The House

The porter danced down the stairs before the show tonight with underwear on his head. Nothing out of the ordinary there. What was strange was that it wasn’t his underwear. It was a lacy red thong. He found it while he was cleaning the old spare dressing room. As he danced around a little more, I noticed Trudy take a quick look down at her underwear situation then turn as red as the thong. The porter finished his dance and asked Bennett if they were his and Bennett was horrified. He would never wear lace to work.

The porter decided to add it to his “collection” and everyone went back to work. I mentioned to Trudy that if they were hers she should forget about them. No one wants anything back from “the collection”. An usher once chose to hop up and down the aisle seating people rather than get his prosthetic foot back from “the collection”. Trudy turned thong red again and said they couldn’t be hers. She doesn’t wear underwear. As hot as that was and as much as I wanted to, I didn’t believe it. Why did she check? She said she was just checking for tan lines. Again, hot but not believable. She must’ve left that thong in the dressing room which meant she was either in there with someone (hot) or living there (problematic)...and knowing Trudy for lo these several days I knew it had to be living there which is just the kind of thing Dick loves. He would blame everything from the Liza hole to Liza’s failed marriages on her, and her theater bar tending career would be over as quickly as it started. I did the only thing I could do. I went to Sweety. Luckily, her nephew had to suddenly leave his apartment (and the state) for an undisclosed location (again). Technically it wasn’t luck. Sweety has a lot of nephews. Odds are one of them is in that situation at any given time. Trudy said she definitely wasn’t living in the theater but she agreed to help him out by taking over his lease.

Anyway, I just got back from helping Trudy move into her new place. Apparently, it was just a coincidence that all her luggage had been at the theater. And that one suitcase full of underwear? She’s just keeping it for a friend.

Happy Endings

I don’t know if you guys heard but there was a bomb scare in Times Square Saturday night and not the normal kind of bomb like “The Addams Family”. No, this was the real thing. The kind that brings Rudy Giuliani out for a photo op.

Anyway, everything in Times Square was normal just before 8:00 p.m. It was like a giant bee hive with millions of workers and drones swarming around a bunch of queens. Then, suddenly, everyone was gone. If I didn’t know any better I would’ve said the rapture has started but I’m fairly certain Jesus wouldn’t make New York tourists the first group he chooses. The cops had hurried all the audiences into all the theaters. Rumors started flying. A car was on fire, a car had a bomb in it, a burning car had a radioactive bomb in it. Our audience started to panic. “What if we’re not allowed outside during intermission? Will we be allowed to smoke in the lobby?”

Eventually the show started and the front of the house staff stood around outside watching the cops and fireman standing around watching us. After a few minutes Bennett began to worry about our heroic first responders and wanted to help them. He’s a sucker for a guy (or groups of guys) in uniform. I suggested we take them some bottled water. He thought what they really needed were back rubs especially the tall guy in the hazmat suit.

I didn’t see Bennett for an hour or so until he came bursting into the theater with the good news. This scary night had a happy ending...oh, and the car didn’t explode.

The Boys Are Back In Town

Dick and Bennett came back to work tonight. Sweety’s been the acting house manager and people have had to rip themselves off with overpriced junk souvenirs. It’s been terrible and if you think I’m kidding congratulations you’re catching on.

Anyway, I’ve never seen Dick this happy. Which isn’t much of an accomplishment because I’ve actually never seen Dick happy. He’s the kind of guy Lewis Black would tell to lighten up. But today, he didn’t even say anything about the blood stains on the carpet...even the two new ones.

I figured if he was in that good a mood Bennett’s mood would be off the charts and I was right except it was the wrong end of the chart. Bennett has been this depressed since Matthew Broderick stopped returning his calls a few months after he married Sarah Jessica.

Turns out the problem was that Bennett wasn’t the center of attention, Dick was. Bennett’s empty promises of sneaking people into the show at intermission were no match for Dick’s empty promises of free front row seats. Bennett didn’t even win first prize at the farewell costume party like he usually did. His Lady Gaga came in second to Dick. I guess they really wanted those free seats because Dick didn’t actually dress up. They just called him Lady Gaga’s accountant and gave him the first place boa. In short Bennett is miserable because he wasn’t the gayest boy at camp this year.

I tried to cheer him up with the story of my ill fated love affair with Ingrid but even that didn’t work. He just looked at me philosophically and said, “to paraphrase Shakespeare, ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than to not be as gay as Dick.’” Poor guy. I didn’t bother to tell him that wasn’t Shakespeare and I’d appreciate if you didn’t either. He’s had a rough enough few days as it is.

The Spa

Close call tonight at work. Bennett’s trying to organize his yearly spa weekend. The problem is that the spa is for gay couples only and Bennett is currently between men. Usually, I mean that literally but this time I mean he’s single. Whenever that’s the case during spa time he wants me to pretend I’m his boyfriend. He always goes through the same sales pitch. The place puts the “ab” in fabulous (not the kind of six pack I’m interested in). They have great coffee enemas (the “I take my coffee like I take my men" treatment) and, the kicker, he says we don’t even have to have sex. Last year was easy, Miss Ex told Bennett that she was the only one in our relationship allowed to be fake gay (God, I miss that woman). This year I ended up telling him I’m allergic to chest wax.

I suggested he ask Trudy. It could be a whole "Victor/Victoria" thing. A woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman. She loved the idea and so did he until...well, let’s put it this way, Bennett could never pretend to be involved with someone who didn’t know who Julie Andrews was.

Bennett was getting a little agitated at this point which brought Dick rushing over like TMZ to a Lindsay Lohan traffic stop. Dick always says he doesn’t like drama in his theater (without ever appreciating the irony). He demanded to know the problem. Then, like any good manager, he immediately came up with a solution that none of us would have ever dreamed of...although now that I think about it Bennett and Dick do make a fetching couple.