Morning

I'm very good at saying goodbye. I'm well acquainted with the restless sleep when you're in a bed that isn't yours next to someone else. (I feel I should write that WELL ACQUAINTED is describing my familiarity with the feeling, not saying that I have a large number of such experiences). 

This morning, I didn't have to say my goodbye. I woke up and had that awareness I was not in my own bed. I wrestled with wonder. Should I bounce? I could go home and rest before I have to work at 11. The thing is, I was the one who initiated all of this. I was the one who poured my heart out. I wanted to be there.

He was awake too. We weren't awake and ready to get up. He held me all morning. We talked about getting breakfast. He talked about showing me around. I didn't want to get up. I didn't want him to let go.

I have this mindset of this could be the last time. So make the most of it. And I just wanted to be there with him.

When I finally got home, I reflected on the night. I reflected on the things I said. I remembered crying in front of him. I remember letting myself be vulnerable. I remember holding hands on the way to the next bar. I then get overwhelmed with feeling.

I call Mere. I tell her everything. She asks me how I feel. I don't know. I feel good. I feel happy it happened. It was a good night and a pleasant morning. The truth is, I don't know how to feel feelings. I can visualize this wall I put up around myself and my heart. I block out feelings. I don't know what to do if they start to come up.

And that's where I am right now. I don't know what to do with myself. On the one hand, there are so many sweet nothings I could respond with. On the other hand, am I stage 5 clinger? I don't even know how he feels. Because with our history, with that last encounter as the last memory of us together, am I the villain?

Warrior

Last night, I was at GFNC and during a lull from the crowd, I made conversation with a woman. She had a red mask and I don't know why I was drawn in to talk to her. She told me she was from Florida. She told me it's the first time she traveled since the pandemic. She mentioned she had surgery soon and this trip was to have fun before it.

What kind of surgery, I asked. She said she was about to become a breast cancer survivor then said breast cancer warrior. My heart sank and leapt. I raised my hand. I'm one of those too. I shared my tale briefly. Her husband came by. I told her everything was going to be okay. Her husband said something along the lines of: it's going to be easy. I said no. It's going to suck and it's going to be hard. But IT WILL GET BETTER.

There are so many more things I wish I could say to her. You're amazing. You're so strong. You can do this. You've already done so much. 

Back in the pool

Yes to the gig, even thought I wanted to be on 45th Street that night

Yes to the shot at the end of the night

Yes to the drink after

Yes you can have my number

Respond to the texts

Yes to the concert

Yes I can figure out how to take the train

Yes I'm glad I didn't have to

Yes I'll meet you at the studio

No I won't wait at reception

No I won't get starstruck at the concert

Oh no I forgot my makeup bag

Yes sure

Does this mean I'm back in the dating pool? I wasn't going to turn on the apps until next year, after cuffing season, after the cold. But I guess it's finding me.

Express My Ass

 Written on the subway train, after being delayed for 20 minutes, ONLY A FEW YARDS from my stop.

So you go out in Brooklyn. At the end of the night, your friends go to Penn Station to take a train into Jersey. That works out because Penn Station is also a subway stop to go home. 

You hop on the express train because it's always faster. But then that motherfucking express train gets delayed TWICE. And yu're sitting in between stops for 20 minutes because they're taking the train ahead of us out of commission. Like fuck. I should have gotten out during the first delay and switched to the local train when I had the chance.

I came home frustrated. Today at work, the people backstage talked about a stabbing on the local train. Okay, perhaps it's good I didn't go on the local train last night.

I still got home before my friends got to Jersey. If I hadn't, I would have been more annoyed.

Music Box

 One day I was sent a spreadsheet for preparation of my shift at the MB for DEH.

The show was still in rehearsals offsite, so the first few times I worked at the theatre, it was only wardrobe on call.

The Theatre

The advantage of an empty theatre is that I got a tour of the entire theatre. I got to walk on the stage. I got to go under the stage. I got to go upstairs to the dressing rooms. I got to trickle through all the stairs and the maze that is a broadway theatre. I even got a tour of the house manager's office, which has its own secret closet from prohibition.

The Job

It was the most backstage I had ever been. Then I was working on the first days the cast came back to the theatre. This was the most work I ever had to do backstage. Day 1 had 60+ people. Day 2 had 70+ people. I checked for their latest test results and gave out their wristbands. 

I learned a good amount of names in the short time I was there. One person even shared my name and took an interest in when I said I was a writer. Perhaps I could venture to plays one day, after I finish my open projects.

The Feels

I got to see all the hustle and bustle backstage. I got to see the crew arrive at 7:30am, only to set up everything for when the cast showed up. I got to hear them rehearse. I got to see them run around in the wings.

I saw the cast smiles when they all returned to the theatre for the first time. I saw crew members get chills to see them performing for the first time. This is real. Broadway is back. This show is back.

And it takes a village. And I got to sit in that village. I said I wanted to see this. I know I can do it. I feel very lucky to have this temporary and rare seat at these theatres. Theatres, plural, which is such a perk of this job. But I'm grateful I got to call this particular theatre home for the week.

Gentlemen of New York

Quick recap of niceties from men I have met in New York City:

#1 & #2 - my roommates, Mr. JD and Mr. SM. These guys I have found on Facebook are helpful, respectful and I have a good time hanging out with them. I lucked out.

#3 - Mr. F. I hung out with an old coworker and met her friends. One of those friends also brought his friend and we were sitting next to each other at the bar. I took him up on an offer to grab a drink and show me around. 

He lives in Bk but he drove his car and he offered to pick me up in UWS. Then we went to a bar in LES, then a bar in Bk, then finally Newark, NJ. He also drove me home. Oh the way out of the last bar, his friends were telling me he was a good guy. It didn’t feel like a date but was it a date?

#4 - Mr. J. He helped the musicians load their cars. He made sure cars didn’t hit me in the parking lot. He ordered a car to take us to a bar. He bought me drinks and kissed me. 

I had complained about the event I worked on Monday. In hindsight, obviously, it wasn't bad. I wouldn't have had the same ending at the reunion concert, opening night or movie premiere. Well, perhaps the movie premiere, but it's not time for that magic to surface.

So now let's see how long I'm to be pursued and how long it takes to convince me to let my guard down.

#5 - Mr. M. I sat next to a dad at a show. He brought his daughter and her friend to the city to celebrate her birthday. He was fascinated by my moving to New York story. He would ask questions that popped up in his head. I asked about Philadelphia. When I visit the baseball stadium, he recommended Tony Luke's and said I could eat cheesesteak from anywhere.

#6 - Mr. R. Also a creator. Also from work. He asked me to drinks. Not sure what intentions are, and we'll see.

#7 - Mr. B. One of the doormen. I hope he gets a granddaughter one day. And it's greatly endearing to hear how much he loved his wife, who sadly passed.

#8 - Mr. J. Another doorman and a cutie. As in the first guy I crushed on and was crushed when he mentioned a girlfriend

#9 - Mr. JR. Admittedly, I'm thinking about him and wondering if I should open that up. It was bad timing last time. But is it a step backwards?

A few reflections from these interactions:

Should any romantic unions occur... I don't know how to finish that because in my mind, I wasn't going to do anything until next year. Yet, that's not where life is taking me. Can I live a sex and the city life? Is that me? Is it going to be me? Can I impress people with things I say? Do I have to be calculated. I'm not trying to impress you, I'm trying to be myself. I want to be comfortable in that.

And some shitty encounters:

Shake shack guy, spitting guy, and what author guy. Oh, and change on the train guy.

First, don't hit on women in a subway. It's just not cool. I'm already on such high alert and I'm trying to get somewhere. DO NOT APPROACH.

Second, I don't like it when you ask about my nails. Is that pickup strategy in some handbook for douchebags? 2 persons asked me that on different occasions.

Last, and most important, NO MEANS NO BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE AN ASSHOLE. I didn't ask you to come up to me. I certainly don't think it's fair for you to be upset and yell at me or spit at me if I don't care for your attention.