My Little Secret

A night at the theater ...

Intermission, in the ladies' room: there are two girls talking. They are young - college students, probably. One is pale and thin, wearing trendy boots; the other has black hair braided in neat, tight corn rows, and wears an oversized jacket. 

"This show is, like, intense, but also funny," says the girl with the braids. 

"Yeah, I like it," offers her paler, trendy companion.

"Me too," agrees the first girl.

I smile at them, and let them cut ahead of me in the bathroom line. I don't interject myself into the conversation, don't introduce myself, don't offer my own comments or reply.

And I sure wasn't going to tell them I'd written the play.

Thanks, girls. I hope the second act met expectations. And again, sincerely - thanks.

(Also, THANK GOODNESS AND MERCY their casual review fell into the general "I like it" category as opposed to "this sucks, let's ditch" verdict. Thank. Goodness. Anonymously hearing that reaction would have made for a far more bitter bathroom break.)