A funny thing happened.. pt 2 - Sex Stories

A funny thing happened.. pt 2

3. The show opened that weekend on the Saturday, and some folks went out afterwards, but most of us hunkered down for the two-show Sunday, and the opening party was set for Sunday night. Our Technical Director, Wyatt, had a place a few miles out of town, and we all caravanned down for a potluck. I was crushing on Sim, but it wasn't like I was obsessed or anything. Well maybe I was a little obsessed. In any case, I planned on monopolizing the guy at the party, if he showed up. With that in mind, I put a little thought into what I would wear. Broken Arrow is in the southwest, so January of an evening is plenty cold, but not arctic. The word was that most of the festivities would be indoors, but that the place had a deck with a fire-pit around which marshmallows could be toasted, songs could be sung, and pot could be smoked, if that's what you were into. Doing my best to cover all the bases temperature wise, I went with skinny jeans, biker boots, scoop-necked t-shirt under a thin, red, zip-up sweater, and a fleece-lined denim jacket. Indoors there might be a little more boob-age than strictly necessary, but given what I'd been prancing around in for the last few weeks of tech and previews, I doubt I'd be raising too many eyebrows. Besides, there were some seriously beautiful women on this production, and ladies who look good and know it dress to impress, particularly at parties at which directors, artistic directors, producers and the like can be expected to put in an ...

... appearance. I could rely on Liz and Tiffany (one of the Geminae) for trashy-hot, Carolyn and Karen for classy-hot, and Jynx (no shit: one name, almost no conversation; playing the other Geminae) for gothy-arty-hot. Glori would look like the sweet, dumb as a squirrel South-Philly mall-slut she pretty much was. Hell, I was going to look sedate by comparison. Sim was there when Liz and I arrived, but he wasn't as easy to collar as I had anticipated. First of all, he spent a little time with almost everybody, thanking our master carpenter for something, listening to our already somewhat plastered managing director talking about how he played Pseudolus back in the day, bringing drinks to his dresser who was wrangling her six-year-old, and generally being agreeable. And sedate or not, I found myself having to fight off a series of propositions from our box-office manager which got more explicit the more he drank. Eventually I had to threaten to call his wife (his home phone number was listed on the contact sheet), and he stomped off. He was followed by Tom Havermeyer, playing Lycus. Blowing off the box-office guy meant I might have some trouble comp-ing any friends who made it out to see the show, but basically I didn't give a shit. I didn't care much for Tom either, but I had to work closely with him, so I didn't want to piss him off by stomping on his dick. Fortunately, it's an established fact that, given a lack of other viable options, Tom Havermeyer will drink rubbing alcohol and/or ...