(Not Perfect Strangers, but semi related…)

After the curtains closed, the lights came up in the theater and people began filing out. I had heard that if you hung around after a show that you might get to meet some of the actors. Honestly, there was only one actor I had any interest in meeting.

It was a cool night but not cold. I had stayed inside until the last of the people filtered out. I glanced around the stage area but there was no one around.

The local college held a theater festival every year and this was one of the shows. If this had been a major play, there probably would have been a line around the building for meeting the actors.

I stopped in the foyer when I saw a couple of the actors already there. Okay, they would be going through here. Now, I just had to get the courage to actually go up to him. I didn’t want to be in the way, so I turned into a wallflower, but I kept an eye out for a particular still slightly curly head.

Finally, I spotted him come through the door. He wore a plaid button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He also had glasses on. I bit my lip. I stayed almost an extra hour. I couldn’t chicken out now.

I pulled out the playbill and opened it to the page with his picture. I also had a pen ready, just in case.

I took a deep breath and went up to him. “I’m sorry to bother you, but could you sign this for me?” I held out the playbill and pen.

His eyebrows lifted, bemused. “You want my autograph?” He paused, his cheeks turning a little pink. “Sure!” He took both items. “What’s your name?”

I told him and he wrote on the page, then handed both back. I read the inscription, made out to me, “Best wishes…” and a signature. “Thank you very much!”

His cheeks got a little pinker. “You’re welcome. Thank you for making me feel a little bit young again.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, smiling.

He smiled back, with a nearly indiscernible upper lip, then continued on. No one else stopped him.

I’m glad I did.

-End-