Opening Night, or Taking on L'Alpe

I had only slept a few hours the night before, like three or something. Otherwise, I laid awake on my back, basking in what cool breeze drifted in through my window, contemplating how far I had traveled and, of course, the remaining road ahead.

I woke up nervous, my stomach a nauseas knot. As a distraction, I plunged into stroller parking, my job, which had become nothing more than a time-killer between sleep and working on the play. But, to no avail. I remained a nervous wreck into mid-day, and believe it or not, constantly being asked “Are you nervous?” didn’t relieve the stress either.

I raced home. Between work and the play, I needed to finish sound with John, shower, and don my suit. My grandparents and aunts arrived during these frantic hours, though I hardly had time to hang out with them. Soon enough, John and I—a veritable urban Johnny Cash—set out for the City and a date with destiny.

Things did not start out well. Ryan, John, and I worked on tech (mostly running the more complex transitions) until Ken, the artistic director and acting house manager, anxiously insisted that we open the house. And so we did. In the meantime, I had to deal with the incoming friends and family, getting comps for ModSquad and springing their postcards on Ken, running to the bathroom, consulting with Mary and Mandy, and trying not to crack up as I waited out the tense 20 minutes in my “booth.” I may have seemed composed as nearly forty people entered the house—that’s right, we sold out and had to put a row of chairs on the floor—but it was my own act for that night, kinda like playing the part of a producer or stage manager. Mandy gave a curtain speech, and we were off.

An hour later, Queen’s “Bicycle Race” could barely be heard over the applause, as Ryan bowed and I unashamedly beamed. Well, there you have it. No, it wasn’t perfect, but damn—we pulled it off. The next day’s show, surely, would be better—in fact, opening night had been only our second run in the space. The packed house cleared onto 42^nd Street, and after a few cursory photos, we--friends, cast, crew—celebrated the victory in Hell’s Kitchen. One night down, two to go.