club med

5 word challenge – Backstage

Nervous?  Me?  Nope.  Maybe the first time, but not now.  Besides, I'm 3 drinks into a long drinking evening.  Those of us who aren't in the first scene chat idly about whose costume is getting too small and who's sleeping with whom this week.  Back here, in the dressing room, it's no-holds-barred.  Nothing is taboo and besides, no one back here has even one ounce of couth.

We're all whipped.  Putting in a full day in the sun and having practically no rest will do that to you.  It doesn't matter though, we're fueled on goldfish crackers and liquor.  A duel between cast members has broken out with the props but no one bothers to even attempt to stop it.  Everyone has been in this show long enough to know when it's time to get out on stage.  Speaking of which, it's my time.

We try to be quiet as we step up into our "jail" cell.  Almost every time someone trips and almost busts her ass since there's no light back here.  Tonight we all make it safely into the cell and we strike a sexy pose as we wait for our music to cue up.  In case you're interested, we're performing "Cell Block Tango".  It isn't exact but the costumes are similar as are many of the dance steps.

 

Occasionally, someone in the booth gets a little crazy with the Cheese Whiz.  No wait, gets crazy with the smoke machine.  Tonight is one of those nights.  Not just clouds of smoke, but literal pillows of smoke burp out of that antiquated monster.  We're trying not to cough up a storm; we are on stage after all, but good gravy!  What the hell can the audience see through this cloud?!?!  Only bonus points are that I'm not first out of the cell so it will have cleared by the time it's my turn.

Pop, six, squish, uh uh, Cisero, Lipschitz!  I'm squish. He ran into my knife.  He ran into my knife ten times.  So what if I'm screwing the milkman!  My partner in this dance is also my good friend.  9 times out of 10 that we do this show, we end up laughing so hard that we're shaking.  I've got to keep my composure!  Maybe I shouldn't have had that last drink.  The fabric unrolls (this makes more sense if you watch the video), I wrap a leg around, and call me drunk, or call the floor slippery, but I just damn near busted my ass in front of 300 guests.  Luckily, I recovered quickly, but what starts immediately after my recovery?  Fits of giggles.  Not just me and my partner, but everyone else who was on stage.  Now, do I think the audience noticed it?  Nope.  They don't know what they're looking for.  They love it.  They tell me after shows that I should consider a career on stage because I always look so happy and like I'm having so much fun.  That's ALCOHOL people!  Unfortunately, my stage career never took off and now I'm a paper-pusher with a considerably healthier liver. 

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Busting my stage cherry

So the title is graphic and a little naughty, big deal.

This is the story of my first time on stage in front of about 300 people.

When the concept of working at Club Med was first explained to me, I thought it to be interesting and fun, if not a little odd.  I mean really, who pays you to do what you enjoy doing, learn to do new stuff, show off your new stuff on stage and to talk to random strangers who end up being your friend 6 days later?  Well, Club Med does basically, or that was my understanding of it.

I like to dance.  Mind you, I am a terrible dancer.  An embarassment to anyone with rhythm actually.  I can headbang with the best of them, although I'm getting off track.  I have a tendency to be very active behind the bar (I think I left out the fact that I was a bartender), and therefore, I tend to be remembered if not noticed.  Our choreographer, who came in for coffee every morning, was dying to get me in a show.

The problem was scheduling.  You see, as a bartender, I was working during many of the rehearsal times and no rehearsal equals no show.  Fortunately, in my first season working at CM, my co-workers in the bar really enjoyed drinking more than I did and were not the least bit interested in getting up early.  Me, on the other hand, I would prefer to be up early and get my work done so that I can relax in the evenings.  In the end, my boss gave in and let me take over all of the morning shifts so that I would have evenings free for rehearsals and shows.

These are not Broadway productions people.  These were a bunch of folks whose talents lie elsewhere that were coerced into a show.  A lot of rehearsals consisted of more yelling than dancing.  I was behind in the learning curve since most people had already been doing rehearsals for a while before I got there, but I do learn quickly.

Here's the thing about CM: if you're asked to do something and you say yes, you'd better be ready to do it in a very short amount of time.  I'm pretty sure I had about one week of practice before the choreographer decided that I was ready for the stage.  How excited was I?!?!  I told my co-workers and my boss about my pending big debut and all was happy across the land.

As the big night approached, I had no worries.  How difficult could this be?  That was not the correct attitude.  I headed backstage before showtime and found my newly named cubby.  It had my three costumes and my shoes.  Whee!!!  I made sure of the order of the show and pulled out my first costume and that's when it struck.

Stage fright.

Possibly the worst case ever known to man.  Okay, probably not, but my God, I couldn't even get my shoes on.  Mimi, who had the cubby next to mine, noticed that I was a bit on the nervous side.

"Sunshine, how are you doing?"

"Well, I have all my costumes, I think I remember the steps."

"That's good.  Oh wait, you have that on backwards."

"Ugh!  This is terrible.  I'm shaking like a leaf!"

"Oh, yes, this is your first show, right?"

"Sure is.  I hope I don't screw up."

"Look, have you had a drink?"

Seriously, she asked me if I was drinking.  I will not stand on a soap box and say I didn't consider it, but I decided against it being the noob.

"Um, no."

"Well, girl, go get one!  Geez, you work in the bar, you drink for free, and you're not having anything?  Go get yourself a drink, and bring me one too."

I'm pretty sure that I looked at her as if she had 3 heads before she told me to get a move on.  There was a corridor that connected backstage with the back area of the bar and I made good use of it.  I went back, got us drinks, had a shot of Jaegermeister for good luck and then headed backstage again where Mimi and I toasted my first show.

Did you know that alcohol kills butterflies?  No scientific study needed.  Proof positive.  I went out on stage and busted a choreographed move.  Not only in the first number where you couldn't see any of our faces anyways, but in the second number and in the finale where I was in the front row!

As we changed back into our regular clothes after the show, I received congratulatory praises on my first performance.  Even my boss pulled me to the side and said that I was right to fight for what I wanted to do.  It was a great experience that lead to soooo many more nights on stage.  After a couple years of performing, people started asking me if I'd had any experience on stage before because it always looked like I was having so much fun up there.  A few people suggested that I should try a career in stage.  HA!  I laugh at them.  I'm smiling and laughing because a)we do talk to each other up there even though you can't hear it in the audience and b) give me a shot of Jaeger and I'll smile at anything.

I've retired my stage shoes, they've been collecting dust for about 3 years now.  That doesn't mean I don't get the urge to dance every now and again because I do.  I just have to suppress these desires and be the mom/girlfriend/admin/web designer/soon-to-be business owner that we all know and love.

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DDT!

No, not the chemical, the wrestling move.

My job used to be very physical.  I taught little kiddies (and big kiddies too) how to fly through the air with the greatest of ease with the least amount of pain possible.  Don't get me wrong.  It isn't painful if you just listen to what you're told, so don't use this as an excuse to not try it out.  I used to be pretty buff.  I handed out tickets to the gun show every time I pointed.  I didn't get hurt often, but when I did, I reverted to just being a girl.

In an attempt to keep the peace in a class (on the ground) and to make sure that everyone got a turn, I assisted a little girl (who was not so little) on the static trapeze.  Said child had a tendency to not listen.  Of course, she slipped right off of the trapeze.  It isn't high.  It was about 4 feet.  Because it was my job, I saved her from splitting her skull and spilling brains all over my mat.  Unfortunately, in the process, the child decided to freak out while almost in my arms and somehow managed to bend my thumb backwards…to about my elbow. 

I refrained from throwing her as far as I could onto her head.  I placed her gently on the floor, feet first even, and then snuck into the back where I could curse this child and her firstborn.  I don't know if you've ever been on a trapeze, but suffice it to say that YOU NEED BOTH THUMBS!  A part of my job included putting on several shows a week, many of which involved me using my thumbs so this little booger machine put a hurting on me.

Skip ahead about two days.  All of the shows for the week have been completed and it's time to go out and party Carlos n' Charlies style.  The alcohol was flowing rather freely, as it did on most nights there.  I'll be the first to admit that I had my fair share (and your fair share, and hers, and his), so I was feeling no pain.  Until…

Brynn (a girl I worked with) decided that it was a good time to have a little fight.  I'd venture to say that Brynn and I were the toughest girls around at that time and there was a play fight or two just to see who was tougher.  We both knew it was jokes, never took it seriously or personal.  Mind you, I was more than half in the bag, but I think it went a little something like this:

B approached me in the manner of play fighting.  I responded.  All was fun and games.  B happened to grab the hand with the bent-back thumb and bent it back again.  At this point, everything ceased to exist except the pain in my thumb.  I now know what is meant by blind rage.  Everything literally went white and all I could focus on was retaliation.  Unfortunately, B just didn't know what she did.  Before Carlos, Charlie, our co-workers, and half of Ixtapa, I blindly grabbed her head and I gave her a DDT.  On the floor.  The dirty, dirty floor.  At Carlos n' Charlies.

Have you ever been in a nightclub and it just got quiet?  I have. 

Brynn was twitching just a bit as she lay on the floor.  People just stood looking from her to me and back again.  Don't worry, she was only slightly stunned.  She got up, brushed herself off, and we kept drinking.  This is the stuff that legends are made of.  I spent another 4 months in that place and it took at least 2 before people stopped talking about the time Sunshine DDT'ed Brynn in CnCs.  Ahh, good times. 

Miss ya Brynn!!

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