The Rise and Fall of a Theater Geek

by Seth Rudetsky

  CHASE NEEDS HIS WOOL SCARF PICKED UP FROM THE DRY CLEANERS ON 72ND STREET AND BROUGHT TO REHEARSAL BY 2!

  I checked my watch. It was 1:20. I had ju-u-u-st enough time if I left now.

  But…Scotty was still downstairs! I can’t leave. This may be my last chance to meet/date a TV star.

  Hmm…I considered pretending I never got the text…but what if Hubert fired me?

  But Scotty! How could I leave him before he even got a chance to fall in love with me? Or ask me to lunch? Or at least nod politely when I told him I “liked” his Facebook page?

  But if I didn’t have an internship, my parents wouldn’t let me stay in New York. And date Devon. Possibly. And be able to see a Broadway rehearsal. Possibly.

  I forced myself to walk away from the elevators.

  I rechecked the text to make sure I had read it correctly.

  I had.

  Then I rechecked to make sure there was no text from Devon.

  There wasn’t.

  I started to walk out of the building.

  I hoped it wasn’t sleeting.

  It was.

  Once I was on the street, the cold air and wet sleet on my face helped me clear my head. I don’t need to date a Disney star; I have Devon!

  Sort of.

  Yes, I still hadn’t gotten a text back from him, but I began to think that maybe he had his phone confiscated at school and therefore had no way of reaching me. He’s probably been frantic! I briefly considered making a detour to his high school and dropping off a note at the front office asking him to meet me tonight for dinner but then decided it might be perceived as desperate. And I knew that if I thought something was possibly desperate, it undoubtedly was.

  I waited an extra few minutes in front of the GlitZ building, hoping to catch Scotty on his way out, but Becky must have been chatting his ear off.

  I checked my phone again to see if I had somehow deleted a text from Devon.

  I then went to text Spencer to tell him I had a great story about how Becky pretty much threw me out of her office, but I stopped as soon as I typed in his name.

  I looked at my phone and got an idea; I would delete all of Spencer’s texts from my phone. After all, he had deleted me from his life, hadn’t he?

  I waited at the bus stop and scrolled to the oldest text I had from him, but it was so nice I decided to save it. I mean, how often will I have a text from someone saying my hair looked amazing? I waited for the light to change and went to the next text, but it was really funny, so I decided to save it for when I wanted an easy laugh. The next one was super sweet (he signed it “Your best friend and boyfriend, Spencer”), and at that point I decided it wasn’t productive to focus on this task anymore.

  OK. It was time to focus on me. First, I took a picture of myself in the sleet and posted it immediately on my website. The caption was “It’s cold outside but Thousand-Watt Smile’s lookin’ hot.” Of course, I had no idea how Thousand-Watt Smile was looking since I haven’t been allowed anywhere near it, but it was sort of truthful because I was on my way to rehearsal. I got on the uptown bus and before I went back to thinking about any of my two possible boyfriends and one annoying ex, I redirected my brain into figuring out who left me that note last night.

  Nothing.

  It was difficult to even begin because I had no idea what the note meant. Who was a fake? I wish I could appeal to the anonymous note writer to be more specific next time.

  Wait a minute! I suddenly thought. I actually could. Whoever left that note knows who I am, and anyone who knows me has to know I have a website. I took a quick photo of myself looking quizzical and captioned it, “On New York City bus wondering who’s a fake?” I hoped the note writer would see it and respond somehow. Of course, it’s a completely bizarre sentence to see underneath a photo, but I figured anyone reading it who didn’t write the note would think I was being philosophical about New Yorkers. I’ve discovered that when you write something that doesn’t make sense, you can pawn it off by saying you were being poetic and then make people feel stupid for not understanding. I once uploaded a picture of me in tap class and captioned it “Dancing to a great song…” Unfortunately, I didn’t proofread the auto correct, so it wound up being posted as a picture of me doing a time step with a caption that read “Dancing to a grid soul…” Before I could delete it, the head of the school poetry magazine (Anna Kinstler) came up to my lunch table and asked if she could publish it in the spring issue. I immediately said yes but had no answer when she then asked me, with deep concern in her eyes, “Isn’t every soul simply part of a grid?”

  Huh? Thankfully, I was taking a sip of Crystal Light when she laid that question on me, so I just held up my cup like I was toasting her and that was enough for her to smile and walk away. Of course, Spencer was sitting with me and heard the whole thing. We both laughed up a storm and ever since then, we’ve called Anna “Grid Soul” or “GS” for short. Ah! Why did every memory end with me missing Spencer?

  I snapped out of my remembrance and noticed we were stopped at Seventy-Second Street so I ran off the bus, picked up the scarf from the dry cleaner, and hopped on the subway to Times Square. I took the escalator out of the station and started walking.

  Within two minutes, I heard my phone ding.

  Hubert, of course.

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  It wasn’t two o’clock yet. Why the anxiety?

  On corner of 44th Street. Walking to theater.

  Within fifteen seconds, I saw someone with an orange face come barreling toward me. Yowtch. It was Hubert with his signature “tan.”

  “Hi, Justin,” he said when he got close.

  “Hi, Hubert,” I said, remembering and resenting the fact that the t was silent.

  He spoke very quickly. “Thanks for getting this done so fast. I’ll take the scarf off your hands.”

  I wondered why he was suddenly being helpful. Not that the scarf was heavy to carry, but it was a nice offer. I handed him the scarf and used the opportunity of having both hands free to pull my hat over my ears.

  “It’s so cold!” I said. I wanted to ask him why he was lying about my availability to Chase but knew I shouldn’t have a fight with him before I was safely in rehearsal. I decided to make conversation using the most neutral topic of all—the weather.

  “It is cold!” He held up the scarf. “That’s why I needed this. They’re about to break for lunch and Chase has to keep his neck warm.”

  Oh! That was the big rush. But…if there was such a rush on getting the scarf, why weren’t we racing back to rehearsal? Hubert was still standing in front of me. I then noticed he had an envelope.

  “Here ya go,” he said, handing it to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t what I thought it was.

  “It’s a few more things I need you to do this afternoon.”

  It was what I thought it was. Argh! The whole reason I rushed this morning was so I’d have a chance to be in the theater this afternoon. “Can I do it after rehearsal?” I asked.

  “I need it ASAP.” By the way, he didn’t say “as soon as possible,” which would have been preferable. Nor did he say A-S-A-P, which I find irritating. Instead, he pronounced it the most annoying way: “A-sap.” Whenever someone says that on a TV show, it’s always the person who thinks other people exist only to do his or her bidding. I guess that describes Hubert down to a (silent) t.

  Without saying goodbye, he started walking toward the theater. And it was obvious he didn’t want me to come along.

  I ripped open the envelope and saw a brand-new list of tasks. One of them involved going to expensive Gracious Home and getting things like soap dispensers and towels. Wow. It seems like Chase had accounts set up at every store in New York. There was a handwritten note on the list: Please take photos of all bathroom items and text them to me for approval. The dressing room is blue, so keep everything within a similar color palette.

  I guess I was in charge of decorating Chase’s
dressing room bathroom instead of going to rehearsal.

  Was this going to be my whole internship? I would have been more involved with theater if I had stayed at Big Noise Media. For a second, I considered quitting to go there, but how would I explain deserting my family in their time of mourning?

  This was it. Either Hubert let me into rehearsal or I told Chase everything.

  I started running down the block toward him.

  “Hubert! Hubert!” I yelled. I felt like an idiot calling out words that made it sound like I was excited to see a grizzly. (Oo! Bear! Oo! Bear!)

  He turned around and saw me. Then briskly walked back up the block to where I was standing.

  “Yes, Justin?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “Is there something you don’t understand?”

  “There actually is, Hubert. I was offered this internship by Chase.”

  “Yes?” he asked haughtily.

  “And I ran into him last night and he seems to have some wrong information about my availability.”

  “Does he?” Hubert asked.

  “Yes, and I plan to set the record straight.” I turned to walk past him and he put his hand on my arm.

  “Why don’t you take a moment first, Justin?”

  “For what?” I asked, not interested in his excuses.

  “Well…” He put his arm around me (gross) and walked me over to Shubert Alley. I knew it was to place us out of the view of anyone exiting the Thousand-Watt Smile stage door. “I wasn’t planning on you running into Chase last night, so I didn’t share this with you right away. Quite frankly, I was waiting until a moment like this to fill you in on your ‘availability.’ ”

  “You’re filling me in on my availability?”

  “Yes, Justin.” He gave his version of a smile. “Let’s be honest. I wasn’t interested in you interning for Chase. I handle everything for him.” His eyes flashed. “And I mean everything.”

  What a control freak.

  “But I soon discovered I would need some help right about now for personal reasons and it worked out perfectly that you were available.”

  “I am available. But I was planning on being at the theater. And I’m sure that’s what Chase would want.” I started to walk away.

  “My point is,” he said in a loud voice that stopped me in my tracks and brought me back to him, “I was at a lovely Christmas party recently and ran into Sophia, the head of Big Noise Media. People in the theater socialize with each other at various events and I know her quite well. Lovely woman.”

  “Yeah?” I said. What was his point?

  “I remembered that you were planning on interning with her until Chase asked you to help out.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I hadn’t yet confirmed your internship with us and I planned on asking her if she would make sure you stayed at Big Noise.”

  Where was this going?

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I mentioned that I had met their newest intern and was surprised to find out that you suddenly weren’t going to be available for them…because of the recent death in your family.”

  Oh boy.

  He went on. “I expressed my deepest sympathy.” He put on a concerned look. “Not only for you but also for them. It seems they were relying on your help because they are struggling.” Then he added, “And you left them quite abruptly.”

  The same feelings of guilt I felt when I dropped them came flooding back.

  You had a commitment and you broke it. Even worse, you broke it with a lie.

  Shut up, Spencer!

  “Anyway,” Hubert said with a condescending smile, “I didn’t tell Big Noise Media that you might not be staying with your family on Long Island during this time. I didn’t tell them that you might, indeed, be in New York City. I didn’t tell them that, perhaps, your family isn’t in mourning. But,” he said as he leaned in, “I could.”

  We stared at each other.

  I was stuck. If he told Sophia, she would tell her father, who would tell my dad. How would I explain letting down his friend who pushed for me to get the internship? I’d probably get grounded, which would mean I couldn’t do the spring musical. Also, Hubert would probably tell my school and I wouldn’t get credit for JobSkill!

  And, worse than all of that, Spencer would find out. He wouldn’t even have to say anything. I’d know how disappointed he’d be in me. Any chance I had to fix our friendship would be ruined. I’d proved how selfish I was.

  I kept staring at Hubert. I had no choice. I’d have to do the internship his way.

  “OK,” I said finally. “I get it. I’m off to do errands.”

  “Exactly. You help me out and I’ll help you out.”

  Help me out? He really means he won’t rat me out.

  I watched Hubert walk out of Shubert Alley toward the Thousand-Watt Smile theater.

  When he got nearby, people started exiting the theater. And there was Chase! Hubert walked over to him and then walked toward Eighth Avenue.

  “No lunch?” Chase called.

  Hubert waved to him. “No time! I’ve got to run some errands for you!”

  The nerve. I was the one running errands for Chase.

  The thought of walking back to the subway and going back uptown felt overwhelming. I hadn’t bought lunch today, so I decided to spend money on a cab.

  I hightailed it to Gracious Home and got some beautiful stuff. Taking photos and texting them was arduous, but Hubert must like my taste. I finished pretty fast.

  Ding.

  Forgot to add something to the list. Too long to text. Call me.

  What choice did I have?

  I walked out on the street and dialed. A loud fire truck went by as it started ringing but I put my finger in my ear so I could hear. Hubert picked up after two rings and I heard the same fire truck from his side of the phone call. What the— He must be right nearby. I started scanning the street as I asked him what he needed. He told me he was putting me on the list for an exclusive leather store in the Village and he wanted me to pick out an ottoman. He was almost done describing the various leather textures and colors he was interested in when I suddenly said, “Aha!”

  “What is it?” Hubert asked.

  I see you across the street from me, you secretive person! I almost blurted out.

  Instead, I said, “Aha! I know exactly what you’d love. I’m on my way.”

  “ASAP,” Hubert said as he hung up, and I saw him put his phone away. He was standing with another man. The guy had short, bright red hair (not like Spencer’s orange hair). And he was wearing a ski parka. Hubert is so deceitful that I wondered if they were up to something he wouldn’t want Chase to know about. How cool would it be if I saw them doing some illegal activity? I’d have something to blackmail him with so I could start going to rehearsals! I decided to follow both of them. But first I ran a block ahead so I could discreetly turn around and get a clear picture of them facing me. I didn’t watch a twelve-hour marathon of Law & Order on Christmas Day for nothing.

  Well, I followed them for a while, but not only did they do no illegal activity, they only did boring activity. After an hour and a half, I figured they’re just friends who were spending the afternoon visiting other friends because first they went into a luxury building and stayed there for a while. They finally exited and walked uptown. I stayed a safe distance behind. I hoped they would go into a store and shoplift something, but all they did was enter another building. The only difference this time was the building was a brownstone. I waited around the same amount of time and when I saw them cross the street and go into yet another apartment building, I gave up. Even if they were doing something illegal, I couldn’t follow them into an apartment and video them. Thinking about video made me remember the photo of them. I thought I could maybe use it for evidence one day if I did find out something nefarious, so I decided to email it to myself in case I lost my phone (which is what happened to one of the crime witnesses midway through the Law & Order marathon). Well, right after I sent it
I checked my email for the first time that day and…there was a message from Devon!

  Who cares about following Hubert anymore—my soon-to-be-possible boyfriend had finally contacted me! I saw from the time stamp that he had actually sent it hours ago. He wrote that he hates text messages because you have to limit how many letters you use, so he decided to send an email instead. Why didn’t I check all day?!?! He knew he’d have very little homework this weekend and wanted to know if I’d be cool getting together. I immediately gave up on stalking Hubert and wrote back that I intern during the day, but I could meet him Friday for dinner.

  Yes!

  My first date with a real New Yorker!

  Take that, Scotty. And Spencer.

  And both of your S’s!

  Well, after a week and a half of nonstop errands, I’ve simply accepted that this internship will not be what I expected. As a matter of fact, it’s worse than what I imagined. It’s one thing to be bored at a publicist office, but at least it’s related to theater. Instead, I spend every day (including the weekend!) running around the city doing Hubert’s bidding.

  And my whole fantasy of seeing Broadway shows every night never happened. I have so many errands that I’m usually not done till after eight p.m…. just late enough so I can’t make curtain time. It’s almost as if Hubert has planned to ruin my time in New York. The only good news is, Devon is looking more and more like my New York City boyfriend…even though no smooching has happened yet.

  On Friday, I met him at The Cottage, a delish Chinese restaurant on Seventy-Seventh and Amsterdam where we spent the whole meal comparing Elphabas from Wicked. It was so different from a date with Spencer. Yes, we’d spend some time talking about Broadway, but then the conversation would switch to some world event that Spencer wanted my opinion about, or a book I wanted him to read, or the forceful letter Spencer was about to write about some political injustice, or something hilariously crazy my parents did. With Devon, it was so refreshing being able to focus solely and completely on Broadway instead of going from random topic to random topic. He walked me home and as we stood in front of Grandma Sally’s brownstone, I prepared for a little good-night kiss. I popped two pieces of extra-strength spearmint gum in my mouth to counteract my tofu with garlic sauce, but we were so intensely discussing our favorite Tony Awards that it seemed weird to interrupt him for a smooch. I was going to suggest a walk in the park to prolong our date, but then I figured the longer we held off kissing, the more exciting it would be when we finally did it. Also, even though a walk in the park at night sounds like a romantic idea, I realized we weren’t on Long Island. In other words, romance is usually lost after a mugging.