Stagey Stoke

So.

I needed fuel for the fiasco I was about to walk into 

I went to Stoke-on-Trent to see my actor friend (aka, the barricade boy) (FML) preform in Priscilla Queen of the Desert. My darling barricade boy is now dressing in drag. This is hilarious for about seventy billion reasons, but, we'll get to that in a minute.

Well, actually, no, just, watch this video and then we'll talk:

Still laughing? I know, me too. ME TOO.

We had talked about my coming up to see the show for ages, but, when the dates I would be in the UK corresponded with him being in Stoke, we hmmed and hahhed over my coming to The Worst Place On Earth-- Ever. After many apologies about how horrible it would be, we decided I would brave it and come up--he wanted my opinion on the show, and we thought it would be really awful to be so close and miss each other, so, we agreed that I would train it up there to see him in all his glitter fabulousness.

(and, Stoke really is that bad, but, we managed to make it awesomely fun) (Stoke still sucks)

He sent me the link to the train tickets--which I laughed at, because really fool, you think I don't know how to navigate the UK via train? Oh, silly, silly creature.

We arranged to come up on Thursday, because Jason Donovan was in the lead that night, and he wanted me to get the full effect of the show in it's prime--lovely. "It's so GAY!" At the last minute, his role was changed from his standard ensemble and Frank roles to that of who he understudies. This proved to be good and bad. At first he was upset, wanting me to see what he does every night, but, when we grabbed dinner and chatted over it, we both decided I probably wasn't emotionally ready to see that much of him. And in that much glitter.

Instead he played a 60 year Aussie with a mail order bride. It was kind of even better.

We met up before the show, and he took me to the box office to get my tickets, which, thank you bestie for the discount--you are the most awesome--and a pressie--which was a programme (he hates when I pay for them) wherein we flipped through it and he showed me all the roles he would not be playing that night. I nearly fell over laughing when he showed me who he is in the picture below.

Any guesses as to which one is my man? I can tell you, you won't believe me.

To which I argued "That is not you! It's not, this is not possible!" and his "Well, I don't know what to tell you Al, because, it is!". Then I laughed some more and he smacked me for being the worst friend ever.

I dropped him at the stage door, as per tradition and ran back to the hotel to change. Susan and I decked ourselves in all the sparkles and headed to the theatre.

I wore a Priscilla appropriate ensemble 

So, we watched the show. Which was a whole lot of glitter, lipstick, pink, sparkle and Kylie jokes.

And then I made this face.

At the interval--also, hi Regan's weird headshot!! 

And this one.

Susan had some thoughts too!

Listen, he's brilliant--but, it's the gayest show ever (his words, not mine--although, I agree), and having seen him in so many classic musicals, it was weird for me to watch him out of his element. It was even harder for me to imagine him dancing to "Go West" in silver booty shorts, chaps, and a cowboy hat. Which, would have happened on any other night. I'm kind of glad I missed that. I love him, but, I don't need to see him in booty shorts.

The purple leather. I can't even. He hates that costume, hates it. Also, please note that chest shaving is required. And no beard. He loves his beard. I've never seen him without it, I would freak out.

In the finale, he was in a kangaroo costume--I so wish I had a picture, I would sell my soul to have a picture. I have never laughed so hard in my entire life (until later that night, of course). Susan legit had to hold me up, and the girls next to us thought I was insane. Listen, they weren't there to see the possible love of their life turned best friend in drag, so, really, shut it.

After the show, being the good mate he is, he had arranged to take us to wine and cheese with the cast at a pub and then one of their wardrobe staff was guest DJ-ing at a gay bar, so, we would go there after.

Serious.

We went to the pub, took a seat, and he introduced me to his castmates, many of which knew who I was--only mildly weird. I bonded with his friend Wayne over marathon training, Susan was a hit, having just seen an ex castmate of theirs in Book of Mormon. We laughed, we caught up, we talked. I made fun of his singing "A Fine Romance" off pitch (but did say I was pleased to hear him sing--finally, as he didn't really sing in Scrooge!), we agreed he needs to get back to the West End, I made fun of him performing the finale in a kangaroo costume. "The whole thing is shit, and you open with that?! Ally!" See, I am an amazing friend. I also said there was too much man booty and that I covered my eyes several times. Because I'm a lady. (but really, he knows I will always support and cheer him on. Even in booty shorts)

Then we went to Pink. The aptly named gay nightclub. In Stoke-on-Trent.

Where we had so.much.fun! Oh man. Seriously. It was, one of the most fun nights ever. We have such a great time together, we just have so much to talk about and enjoy--we also have fun making fun of other actors, making fun of each other, laughing at our accents, dancing, singing--we just have the best time. We get each other. We can talk about theatre, travel, life, work, friends--nothing is off limit and we always understand and empathize with each other--which, is pretty awesome.

His stage manager, Michael came out with us, and we had a such fun with him. At one point, Michael and BB were dancing and somehow I was pulled into the mix, being tossed around a dance floor to Cotton Eye Joe in five inch Jimmy Choo's. In Stoke on Trent. I can't make this up.

THE LIGHTING IS PINK!!! I die. 

Because if Michael and BB can't get down in Stoke, well, then....

I honestly have no idea what's happening here. But I know we were laughing.

Get it, BB! Show off those 'Scilla dance moves. I wish y'all could see his face here--it's pursed lips, which is just hilarious. 

We spilled a few pints, shed a few tears, we laughed a whole lot. We avoided--and then befriended, stalkers. We hugged. We danced. We sang. We shared truths. We shared secrets. We shared special moments. We shared hopes. We shared a great night.

Me and BB. Who is wearing Abercrombie. If you think I didn't mention that once or twice, you are wrong. (and now, you finally know what we look like together) (ughhhhh) (aren't we cute?! goddamn it, friends shouldn't look this cute together whine whine, damn it)

And then, then, my best karaoke sang "Rawhide" for me, and I fell over laughing. Because he was determined to sing something "Texan for his Texan!". And I literally thought I was going to pass out I was laughing so hard--dude has a great voice, and there is nothing more hilarious than a deep baritone singing "Rawhide" at 4am at a gay bar. This I know to be true.

Please note, my sparkle dress in the reflection, Ian in the black tee, and the fabulous wig happening at the DJ booth.

On his wrist? Yeah, my lucky hair tie. Which I'd like back, please and thank you!

Originally, we thought we'd end the night early, because it was Stoke. I was annoyed because he and I, when we're together can legit stay out until 4 or 5am (happened at Balan's last time) and I was bummed that we'd be calling it a night before 2. Not that I ever stay out that late, because honestly, I don't, but, we only see each other every who knows how often, so, our time is limited and if I was trekking myself to bloody Stoke, we needed some solid time together!

Welp, it was near 7am when we said our goodbyes. And then I discovered the soles of my shoes were ruined. Even though I'd stashed flip flops in my bag--which I never put on.

So, I think Stoke delivered on that one.