There’s a cute boy in my theatre company. Okay, there are a lot of cute boys in my theatre company. That goes with the territory. But there is one in particular.

It all started right before Christmas. I had one week left before flying back to San Francisco and even though I was only looking at two weeks away from NYC it felt very final, so much so that I was ticking things off in my head in the very collegiate way of “17 papers, 12 finals, 55 power point presentations left until FREEDOM”- that’s always how the last week before winter break felt. Post college it’s more “last weekend in NY of 2008, last late shift at work 2008, last theatre company meeting until 2009…”

This last meeting can be divided approximately in two: one part theater, one part flirting with Cute Theatre Boy. It wasn’t purposeful flirting (I hadn’t quite pronounced myself 100% recovered from being dumped) and I didn’t think much about it, though I did find myself pleasantly surprised when after the meeting we just so happened to be walking to the same subway station. We end up on the platform, me waiting for the express and him waiting for the local, which of course came first. I see it arriving and in those  30 seconds-doors opening/people getting off/getting on/”THE DOORS ARE CLOSING. PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS.”- my mind is fraught with Hmm how do I say this goodbye? Wave? Is a hug too much? I mean, I don’t know him that well, but-. Fortunately my buzzing brain is interrupted by his hug and “Bye! Have fun at home, see you next year!” and as he does this I am completely overwhelmed by a strange, weirdly severe urge to kiss him. If my buzzing, overactive brain didn’t crowd out my instincts, as it so often does, I would have kissed him. Instead I’m left alone on the platform buzzing Well, there goes a guy I’m not going to see for three weeks. Damn. Oh well!

The following day I’m back at the theater putting in work hours painting the dressing room. I had systematically removed all costumes knowing they must be returned to proper places and remain paint free and was getting kinda lonely kneeling on the floor, paint brush clutched in paint covered hands, having deja vues of summer when I had to paint my entire apartment before we could move in, when who shows up but Cute Theatre Boy. Who just so happens to be putting in work hours as well. I hand him a paint brush. We quickly discover we have quite a few things in common. A mutual love of Edward Albee, two musicals most theatre snobs hate, Maine,  used books (which he claims to have an addiction to, where as I’m just a bargain hunter/frugal/green/”Asian”), and that we’re both leaving NYC to go home for the holidays on the same day. We end up painting two coats which we deem “totally necessary” (total lie) and before I know it I’m done with my last theatre work hours of 2008! And faced with another good-bye situation. This time however my choice is clear, limited by the circumstance of the presence of other company members. So I just hug everyone “bye” (though perhaps him a little tighter).

Then I’m gone, down the stairs, out of the theater, walking to the subway in the drizzling rain thinking Shit. Totally have a crush on Cute Theatre Boy. Hmm…I’m almost a block away when I hear someone shout my name. I turn around and he’s running down the street toward me. In the 30 seconds before he catches up to me, romantic Hollywood cliches of passionate, 360 degree kisses in the rain flash through my head.

(Surprise, it  also made me think of a Sex and the City moment)

Then he’s reached me and: “We forgot to put the clothes back in the dressing room.” All romantic thoughts flee from my mind and HI REALITY! PPBBT! I’m the only one who knows the proper place for the costumes. Great. I’m stuck going back to the theater. Great. great. great. (grumble). And we’re walking back. And then Cute Theatre says “Want to see a movie or something before we leave?” Yes!! Although I’m not a fan of movie dates…so “How about a play? Have you seen Gypsy?” “Sunday?” “No good, Friday?” “Ok!” “Great!” So this is what happens when two actors date- scenes like this and Friday nights spent on Broadway watching Patti LuPone do what she does best. As we walk down the rest of the block, some of the romantic thoughts begin to peak out from their place of hiding. I’m not a jaded New Yorker, I’m a New Yorker with a date!