Opening night for my show is two days away.
Here’s what I go through every opening night:
First, I get excited. I think about what I’m going to wear. Maybe I buy a pair of shoes.
I eyeball opening night gifts and try to figure out something sweet, cheap, and easy.
I work a lot of hours through tech, though not nearly as many hours as other people work.
And then I spin through the rolodex in my mind of possible dates.
I’m ashamed to say that there is an opening night date hierarchy.
The best of all possible worlds: going with someone I’m sleeping with who looks really good in a suit. This has never happened.
Second best: going with someone I want to sleep with who looks good in a suit. This might’ve happened. Once. I can’t remember.
Third place: going with someone who looks good in a suit who is fun to drink with. This sometimes happens.
Close on third place’s heels: going with someone who looks good in a dress and is fun to drink with. This is usually what happens.
The thing is, as fun as opening night sounds like it should be, by the time it rolls around, I don’t actually ever want to go. And here, in this strange city, my options are limited. I did ask a friend (option 3). He’s busy. I asked a girlfriend. She’s sick. I suppose there are a few others I could ask, but I don’t know if they look good in suits and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to drink with them.
The sound guy suggested I put out an ad on Craigslist. This sounds like a really bad idea. And, quite honestly, a little desperate. But, perhaps in the name of science…
I will consider trying to hook up a first date.
I’ll get back to you on that.