During last night’s performance of Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding, there was one table at which sat a couple of young blondes in little dresses who were attracting a lot of attention from the young men in our cast. As for me . . . well, without saying anything unkind, let me just say that they weren’t my type. Nevertheless, late in the show, after my Father Mark had a few drinks in him, he flung a leaden arm around one of those ladies and began chatting her up. The groom, Tony, was in the vicinity and he decided to join in. “Hey Father Mark,” he called out, “I like your taste!”
I looked up and slurred back at him, “Really? I didn’t know you’d ever tasted me!”
Tony was at a loss for words. After a moment, he backed up and said, “I’m done. I got nothing,” and walked away.
You know, I was hoping he’d have something to throw back at me; it was just a little disheartening to see him fold up his tent so quickly. But back to my original point: he had only himself to blame – ’cause he under-handed that one to the plate!