This morning I mentioned that I was afraid my Rocky Horror days were
over. A bit of explanation might be in order. I enjoyed the show
itself. I particularly enjoyed seeing Jaden LaRoche's
Frank N. Furter. Her exuberance and dead-on portrayal of the corseted
one made me smile every time she was on stage. Everyone else in the
cast who noticed me in the peanut gallery were warm and, dare I say it,
affectionate.
The problem came during the after show get together. I don't
know if it was my familial paranoia, being hard of hearing and unable
to hear a lot of the nearby conversations, or if people were just
intimidated by my indescribable beauty (it is a curse sometimes.)
Whatever the reason, I spent a good portion of the time alone. It's
true that some kindly souls did rescue me from my apparent isolation,
but even then folks seemed nervous to engage me in conversation. Some
even looked away shyly when our eyes happened to meet. I wound up
feeling old, out of touch, and very much out of place.
Several cast members have come forward to ask me to reconsider my
position and come to the next show. Since in hindsight my
out-of-place feelings are most likely due to paranoia, I will probably
do that...if for no other reason than to not give in to faulty thinking.
If I do come and you see me again at Denny's, if I
appear withdrawn or unapproachable, please know that I very much want to
interact with you. I'm just dealing with internal demons which I'm
sure you fortunate people do not have to deal with.
Oh,
and I'll be sure to ugly up so you won't have to worry about bursting
into flames when you behold the beatific vision hiding in the corner.
