September 26, 2007
Big, Black Pants
We did two bottle band gigs over the weekend, which makes for a very long weekend. The first gig was for someone's 50th wedding anniversary, so there were lots of people there over the age of 70. The Saturday gig was for the residents of a large local retirement community, so there were lots of people there over the age of 80.
Surprisingly, the octogenarians were a much better audience. I guess, when you're that close to death, you appreciate anything that'll distract The Reaper for just a little while longer.
The retirement community had a really nice performance space. When we were done setting up and went to get dressed, it hit me that I had forgotten my dress.
My long, clingy, black dress.
How could I forget my dress?! It's the centerpiece around which my entire outfit is created! It's the canvas for the work of art that is moi!
I could forget my shoes, or my opera gloves, or even my earrings. But my dress?! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
With my veiled pillbox hat on my head, and my huge-ass rhinestone earrings on my lobes, I approached the director still wearing my jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt.
"Dude. I'm so sorry. I forgot my dress."
"Wenchie. Have you seen our audience? It's not going to register. Don't worry about it."
Phew! At least he wasn't mad at me. And if Nicki has taught me anything, it's that any t-shirt can be dressed up with a necklace. And I had four strands of pearls! I was halfway to performance-ready!
A few women from the band started to offer me... something. But then they realized that they're all SIZE FOURS, and the laws of the universe wouldn't allow me to wear their stuff.
So, in a poetic, circle-of-life moment, it was WG who came to the rescue. With his black pants.
Now, who among us hasn't gained a few pounds as high school has retreated into the distance and our metabolisms slowed? WG is no exception. And -- how shall I say this -- he is much less of an exception than I.
Those pants were big.
Luckily, A is about my size (yes, he's in the Bottle Band, too) and offered me his belt.
Do you remember that skit on "Saturday Night Live," where Adam Sandler and the late and great Chris Farley were chicks working at The Gap? And when people tried on pants that were too big, they were all, "Well, you're supposed to cinch it!" (You can see the characters here, but I was unable to find the actual skit I'm referring to.)
I felt like that. Like I was wearing baggy, cinched Gap pants. I haven't worn my pants that high in 20 years. And I won't be wearing them that high again for another 40!
Once I pulled the whole look together with the hat and gloves and everything, I turned my back to everyone near me and said the only thing that I could, "Do these pants make my butt look big?"