“We love flattery, even though we are not deceived by it,
because it shows that we are of importance enough to be courted.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

This is going to come across as an incredibly vain post.  I’m prepared for that.  So if you’re easily disgusted by vanity (and I am one of the people who is), you may want to stop reading.  This isn’t for you, the reader.  This is for me, Sarah-who-recently-surrendered-bachelorette-hood (breathe) and-is-not-feeling-so-hot-about-herself.  It was really difficult to type that, in case you were wondering.

We had our first read-thru of a show last night.  It’s a quick and easy show, which means it will be fun.  Nothing heavy, nothing deep, and lots of fun.  Sounds like a bang-up show to jump back in the saddle on.  The director of this show has known me since I was a mere child, because his daughter and I were in A Christmas Carol as Christmas Spirit Attendents together when I was 11.  He’s watched me grow up, and has cast me in several of his shows.  I like working for him because he’s difficult to work for.  He always makes a good show because of it.

Anyway, I spent half of my day judging Trumbauer with him.  We gossiped about theatre around town, talked about people, the usual catty things theatre people do together.  I mentioned something, I thought, about my husband.  We walked back to the judges’ room after we finished, where Bryan greeted me with, “Hello, wife.”

I’m telling you that to tell you this.

As I was helping measure our cast last night for costumes, this director called me over to him.  “I heard you just got married..?” he asked.

I giggled.  “Yeah!  Surely you knew that!  About a month or two ago,” I said, still fiddling with measurements.

He shook his head.  “I never thought anyone would snag you.”

I stopped and looked at him.  “What?”

“I’ve known you for many years, and I never thought anyone would grab you.  You are THE hot commodity in Huntsville.  Men have been vying for you for a long time.”

I know I was blushing.  “Oh, you’re just being kind.  That isn’t true.”

He shrugged.  “It’s absolutely true.  Every man in Huntsville theatre has always wanted a piece of Sarah Brown.  You were THE catch to get.  So who’s the lucky guy?”

I figured he really didn’t know.  “His name is Bryan Comer, and he..”

“Oh, hell, I’ve known Bryan for a long time,” he said.  “Lucky guy.”

It was the nicest I’ve felt about myself in a long time.  I just needed to document it for me. 

Vain post over.