I played the Bellhop in a production of “Lend Me a Tenor” back in Florida. It was a triumphant performance. My grandmother said. And one of the local papers, too, which compared me to Jerry Lewis (before the puffiness – or, at least, I’ve always hoped.) Nothing against Jay Klaitz, the bearish stoner-type doing it on Broadway now, but I firmly believe that part is to be reserved for small-framed, limp-wristed, Caucasian homosexual men. There are so few parts out there for us: the nosy, fanatical bellhop; the gay best friend; the gay assistant; Katie Holmes… I mean, leave us with what little we have left!
The woman who owned the theatre where I did the show was in her 80’s and a true veteran of the biz. I won’t describe her because whatever it is you’re picturing in your head is correct. She got a kick out of me. She thought I had a real spark and liked how I did my hand gestures on stage. She used to call me “kid”. “Here comes the kid,” she’d say as I'd arrive every night. I liked it. It made me feel like Fanny Brice. I was thinking about her this morning as I brushed my teeth, for some reason. I just kept hearing her say it… “Here comes the kid!” I really liked her. Dorothy, her name was… Or maybe it was Esther. It was either Dorothy or Esther. Or Ruth. Who cares? She’s probably dead now anyway. And if she’s not, what is she gonna do – sue me? I’ll sue her ass back! The working conditions in that theatre were deplorable, and the dressing rooms were a joke. And you know what else? I don’t even think I got my last paycheck from her. Ugh, she was a nightmare. Good riddance.
Last night I crashed the opening night party for "Everyday Rapture" at the Marriott Marquis. (Don't judge. I was at the show earlier this week.) So much fun! Mazel Tov to Sherie Rene Scott and her troops on some well-deserved raves! That show and her performance in it have really stuck with me for some reason. I just think there's something terribly special about it, and I look forward to hearing news of its Tony nominations.
On Wednesday, I was at the opening of "Collected Stories", Manhattan Theatre Club's production of the 1996 play, with Linda Lavin and Sarah Paulson. I absolutely loved that, too. Fantastic book and both ladies are captivating from beginning to end. Go, go!
The after party was held at the Planet Hollywood in Times Square (because I suppose nothing's too good for Linda Lavin.......?) Odd location choice aside, it was a fun party. Check out all the fancy people I was hangin' out with!
Here I am with my new friend, the magnificent, the brilliant Charles Busch. What an honor and a delight! And for me, as well.
Why it's the lovely Jim Caruso, the lovely Stephanie J. Block, the lovely Frank DiLella and the lovely, lovely me. (I SWEAR my allergies aren't acting up in this pic... I'm just drunk.)
And no visit to Planet Hollywood would be complete without my impression of Barbra Streisand in "The Main Event". (Stephanie's pissed because I always get to play Barbra.)