OK, so tonight is our final dress rehearsal here in Lake Tar Monkey for that Tennessee Williams play, A Streetcar Named Desire. I’m playing the part of that Blanche Dubois. (Did y’all know you pronounce that like doob-wah? Weird.)
Y’all, being an actor is not as easy as it seems. I’m in a wig, first of all. Then, they expect me to remember all these words. I’m supposed to be standing in the same place at the same time every night. And that director keeps yelling at me, “just listen and respond!” (I KNOW!) HELLO! This is a PLAY! Everything is SCRIPTED so I don’t HAVE to “listen” and “respond.” Oy!
And Gomez has taken this Stanley Kowalski part a little too far. It’s beginning to creep into our personal “dealings,” and I’m a little nervous about how it will affect our professional relationship when we get back to doing The Computer Internet Show. He seems to relish that one line, “how ’bout cuttin’ the re-bop!” a little too much.
But opening night is this weekend, and that’s when all the fun begins. Audiences applauding, and flowers backstage, and the big party where we get to dress up and talk to the fans. Then the newspaper reviews the next morning, and everyone calling that afternoon to tell you how great you were, and congratulate you on what that reviewer wrote about how great your facial expressions were, and how terrific you look in that yellow dress in Act II, and how no, the beige one in Act III really doesn’t make you look like Baby Jane like that putz of a props master whispered to Gomez backstage in the first dress rehearsal. That’s what it’s all about, folks. THAT’S The Theatah!
Wish me broken legs, y’all! Gomez has. Many times.
GILDA SUE ROSENSTERN 