The Boy Who Only Wanted One Thing
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Theatre is sexy. Backstage is dimly lit, with the subtle glow of the onstage lights streaming through the dust of the wooden flats. There are dark corners and pre-determined soundless moments. It’s hot, too. Heat-hot from the lights, and sex-hot from the right chemistry and synchronicity.
Give a couple of prepubescent teens two-and-a-half hours with minimal supervision off-stage, and the theatre can and will do its magic.
I began acting in the theatre at seven. By the time I was 12, I was a horny adolescent girl, and Tony Snow was my equally horny adolescent target. I met him while doing The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. (Cue: howling wind and horse hoof-beats.)
It was the perfect dark and creepy story for a young girl’s first “show-mance.”
It didn’t take long before I realized he wanted me, too. What we wanted… we weren’t quite sure, yet. But we were more than willing to explore the possibilities. We were the reigning Sleepy Hollow item.
Tony and I shared the same path backstage as we headed from one exit to the next entrance. I’d lead as we ran off-stage through the concourse into the Green Room, past the rehearsal hall, and cut through the Very Dark Hallway–a hallway that was sealed by two sets of double-doors on either end.
When both sets of double-doors were closed, it was pitch-black in that hallway. Verily Dark.
The sign on the door read: THESE DOORS MUST REMAIN CLOSED DURING PERFORMANCE.
These doors must remain closed….
Do you remember learning about self-esteem in grade school? When they teach you to stand up for yourself in an assertive way? To speak up when someone doesn’t give you the respect that you deserve?
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