The chorus show is all done. The stage has been struck, and the endlessly memorized music has begun already to fade from our memories.
But the applause and the cheers and the laughter… still loud and clear.
It was an amazing show, and a wonderful weekend. Well worth the blood, sweat and tears that we put into these things.
It’s a funny thing, these chorus shows. You spend 3-4 months preparing everything, rehearsing the music, going every week and sitting in (usually) the same spot, singing the songs, taking an occasional break, and then either going home or maybe out to the bar for a drink and pizza afterward.
In all that time, when you have a group of 150+ guys, you tend to stick with your small group of friends. Either that or you only chat and kibbitz with those around you in your same section. You don’t really get a chance to see who else is out there.
Sure, they publish a roster that has faces and names of every chorus member. But that’s a lot of faces and names. And sometimes people don’t take the greatest pictures (as hard as I try, being the one that takes their pictures.) So you don’t really get to see what they really look like unless you truly meet them in person.
Except when the show moves to the theater.
Then it’s an all-bets-are-off situation.
Suddenly, you notice that really cute guy in the bass section. You know the one. Definitely a little bit older than you, but WOW… very attractive. And DAMN does he look great in those jeans. (This is a rehearsal mind you, not a performance. Bear with me.) And what a nice smile. Where has he been for the last four months?
You know his name, because you have seen the roster. But you’ve never really talked to him before. Yet suddenly, without warning, he approaches you and asks you about your recently failed hard drive. Without flinching, you strike up a conversation with him, as if you’ve talked to him all during the prep period.
The flirtation has begun.
Suddenly you realize that he’s entering and exiting on the same side of the risers as you. Oh great! More chatting and flirting opportunities. Perfect! More words are exchanged. Flash that smile. There you go. He gives one back. Nice.
Cut to showtime. Opening night. You’re dressed in your white shirt and red tie, he in his white shirt and yellow tie. He comes up to you and wishes you good luck. You do the same, and give him a nice hug.
He’s a new member, so before the opening performance, he and the rest of the new members are given a token of appreciation for
surviving sticking around through the prep period. You congratulate him as well and give him a little peck on the cheek.
Day two, Matinee. More chitchat and flirting. You say good luck before walking on stage. Another friendly hug. How sweet it is.
Day two, end of the late show. It’s all over. The crowds are dispersing. You meet Mr. Adorable and congratulate him on completing his first show. You ask if he enjoyed himself and he says “absolutely, I loved it.”
Party time. You hope he shows up and he does. He looks great. And so do you, of course. It’s now or never. Gotta see where this is going. So you finally get a chance to pull him aside and talk about more than just chorus and hard drives and how great he looks in jeans. (OK you don’t mention that, but I’m just checking to see if you’re still with me here.)
He’s getting ready to go home. He has his jacket on. You express your disappointment, but make sure to invite him to your holiday party the following week. He accepts, and you feel a twinge of excitement.
Until he mentions that “The guy he is dating” is taking too long to get ready to go.
Um… excuse me… Who was that again?”
He tells you, and you know who it is. In fact, you had seen them together but didn’t get the connection. Suddenly it all comes clear.
He says they’re not terribly serious just yet, but they’d been dating since September.
my your luck.