NSFW (Not Suitable for Work)

Billy Budd opens tomorrow night, and having seen the Final Dress Rehearsal on Tuesday I can heartily recommend it to you. Yes, it's a bit obscure. Yes, it's based on Herman Melville (yawn). But making up for any shortcomings are a) an incredible set and overall go-horgeous production; b) the HGO chorus doing some of the best singing ever; and c) 80 men on the stage, many of whom are shirtless and one of whom is…umm…less than shirtless. Trust me when I say, this is one you should see. Oh, and the music's incredible, too. Especially when sung by shirtless men. Ahem. All hail Britain Britten indeed.

I'm not sure if it was all the extra testosterone left over on stage, my recent change in marital status, or my sassy new ’do that prompted it, but the men at work were on fire backstage at last night's Bohème performance. First there was the super who told me my haircut “had a lot of body…as much body as its owner.” Gentlemen (and I use the term loosely, obvs), if you should happen to utter something this ridiculous to a member of the fairer sex, your best course of action is to just walk away. Don't keep talking, trying to play off the comment as a joke, because as soon as those words left your lips the lady in question had only 2 thoughts: Where is the nearest exit? and Ewwwww. Walk away, I tell you. Walk. Away.

As if that weren't bad enough, I was then accosted by a stagehand with the line "How do you do it? How do you always look so great?" followed by further probing into my personal life: "You are still married, right? Oh, you're not? Well, are you seeing someone?" (To which the answer is yes, if you're curious, but that's a story for another day). And then a heartfelt "Let me know if that doesn't work out." Again…ewwwwww. These tactics cannot possibly work on anyone.

I work with a lot of unmarried people in their 20's and 30's, along with a boss who, while neither unmarried nor in his 20's or 30's, is British. In that atmosphere, there's bound to be a certain amount of inappropriate talk that goes on, a liberal dose of innuendo, the occasional "that's what she said." Or, to be honest, the very frequent "that's what she said," coming from yours truly so often that CaliBoy has begun grading me: "Nice one! A+" or "A bit of a stretch. I'll give that a solid B" or "Come on, you're losing your edge! C-."

I also taught a couple members of the children's chorus to say "Get a room!" if they see people kissing in public.

And I might have used the phrase "bros before hos" in rehearsal for Bohème. Twice.

So I guess I have nobody to blame but myself. I had it coming.



That's what she said.