Proposal

In one of those rare, real life moments, our show brought two people together last night.

About a week ago my boss Roy called me with an interesting quandry... a gentleman had contacted the Walnut asking if he could propose to his girlfriend onstage during a Hairspray performance. Since Hairspray is so big and complicated, Roy turned him down, but suggested that we might be able to do something like this up in the more intimate atmosphere of the Studio. He called me to see what I thought of the idea, and after I ran it by the boys, we were all on board.

I placed a number of calls to this gentleman (let's call him Henry) to sort out the details. He was very gung-ho about everything, really wanting a special, funny, unforgettable moment during the show to make his proposal.

After some thinking, we decided to do it during the very first scene of the show, set in the radio station. It seemed to be the best place for audience participation, and it vaguely made sense within the context of the play. It would would be out of place in say, Bertha's kitchen, but a random proposal in the middle of a radio station seemed at least mildly plausible.

John, Ben and I brainstormed some script additions and some reactions to whatever might happen, and then after confirming everything with Henry, the show began. I realized belatedly that I should have asked him what he looked like, or what he was wearing, but I soon easily picked him out of the crowd as the nicely dressed man twitching nervously in his seat and repeatedly wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks. His girlfriend was the very pretty lady by his side.

As show began my heart started pounding. Scenarios ran through my head. What if she says no? What if it's all some sort of elaborate hoax? What if the boys forget and just continue with the show? What if Henry was too nervous and completely derailed the show? Chrissy the house management apprentice climbed into the booth and we squeezed each other with anticipation as the moment approached.

John handled the script addition perfectly, announcing to the audience that this was the part of the show where we call a randomly selected audience member up to the stage to read a "Public Service Announcement". (We wanted to make it seem like this was something we did every night) John called Henry's name, and I slowly brought up the house lights. Henry took the index card from John and substituted his own. He began to talk about the wonderful life he and his girlfriend (let's call her Gretchen) had made together, with a new house and a "baby", their dog. He said there was only one thing left to make their lives perfect, and then he got down on one knee and proposed to her with a ring that I would later learn had belonged to her mother. Gretchen instantly started to cry, but managed a very clear "YES" before she and Henry kissed and hugged. The whole audience was just busting out with applause and congratulations. John and Ben shook Henry's hand and then we went on very smoothly into the rest of the show.

And let me tell you, I wish we had a proposal like that every night because we have never had such a good audience. During the second act, our sexy waitresses Helen and Inita sat on Henry's lap and claimed him for one of their boyfriends. Everyone loved this, and we received a full standing ovation at our curtain call, something we didn't even receive on our opening night. The boys took time out of their curtain call to shake Henry's hand again and to give Gretchen a kiss.

It was one of the most romantic things I have ever witnessed. You know, working in theater we strive to re-create wonderful spontaneous things every night, try to keep them fresh, rehearse emotion until it becomes rote, simulate extreme situations and our responses to them. I never realized how artificial it all is until something actually spontaneous occurs.

What a rush. I wish Henry and Gretchen the best life ever, and I wish for more romantic, spontaneous things in my own life.