Lights, Camera, Fox
Like a stereotypical gay man in the West End, I have been adding a dash of glitter to each rainy day, performing my repertoire of show tunes at the Fox Den. From Phantom of the Opera to Godspell, West Side Story to Jesus Christ Superstar, I have cast myself in every leading role and ensemble part. Depending on the mood and costume options available, sometimes I throw on a flamenco dress and sing “Tonight, tonight” and other times I simply leave my mask on and vanish into “The Music of the Night.” These last few nights, however, I have found myself returning to the same role time and again.
Dressing up in my beige raincoat and chestnut brown newsboy cap, I take centre stage in my living room. Stepping into the glow of my IKEA light as if it were a streetlamp, I sing, “and now I’m all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to.” As the rain pours outside, I meander into my bathroom like I am strolling the streets of Paris. Scuffing both cheeks with a touch of charcoal face mask, I accelerando, “without a home, without a friend, without a face to say hello to.” And then, moving downstage to my bedroom, I plug in my humidifier to simulate the mist of la rivière Seine, and ritard, “but now the night is near, and I can make-believe he’s here.”
That is right folks! In December 2020, you can find me in the West End of Vancouver, starring seven nights a week on the mainstage at my apartment, as Éponine Thénardier in Les Misérables. Step aside Lea Salonga! I will take it from here Samantha Barks! Frank Rich, I think this might be my best performance yet. Christmas cracker, if I close my eyes long enough, I can remember this time last year when I was most certainly not on my own. And Meryl knows, I did not have to pretend a man was beside me.
“Last Christmas, I did not give anyone my heart, but I did give my address and buzz code to a number of gentlemen callers.”
Last Christmas, I did not give anyone my heart, but I did give my address and buzz code to a number of gentlemen callers. Gifting myself with a subscription to Grindr UNLIMITED, I unlocked my door to a world of disappointment. Oh, the good ol’ days! Fast-forward to the present and I have deleted the hook-up app altogether (for the 700th time). Deprived of physical touch until the foreseeable future, I now find myself in a fictional relationship with the man across the back lane.
On that note, I am pleased to announce that Pandemic Pete and I just celebrated our nine-month anniversary. (Thank you so much!) He has no clue, of course, but that is neither here nor there. (Backstory here.) During our time together apart, we have settled into our routines. He gets up and works all day from home, whereas I, exhausted from performing, sleep in and add an extra rock to my white wine glass for lunch. I am not sure how much longer the two of us will be together for, or if one day he will shut his blinds and that will be it.
Oh, my goodness, would you look at the time? I am almost up, and I haven’t changed yet! Talk soon.
