We had a really fun show tonight at the Rose & Crown. For me, it’s really great to be back on the island after being away for the past few months. I can really appreciate the air here. In fact, the night ended for me with a really long walk. Of course, it was raining (just call me Charlie Brown…), but that did more to add to the brilliance of the night than it did to detract.
So, it was a good night. But one with it’s share of (let’s call them) interesting moments.
Those of you who have seen The Miss Fairchild Show recently are probably familiar with a moment at the end of show when our good friend Daddy Wrall exits the building only to return triumphantly to bring the show home. On this particular night, he decided to spice up the act a bit, by exiting through front of the building, only to return through back. In a flash. Mysteriously. He even had a helper, someone stationed at the rear of the building to open the door for him, in case it happened to be locked.
So, imagine the scene. Miss Fairchild (minus Wrall) are funking hard to “Pretty Little Thing.” We’ve just said. “I want it. I want it. I do!” and DW is racing like his life depends on it around the building, weaving through disoriented tourists, drunken bar patrons and mischevious teenagers. He’s arrived at his entrance. His helper is there, but so is someone else!
It’s (let’s call him) Boris, one of the bouncers. He’s physically restraining our lovely accomplice and telling Wrall that he can’t enter! It’s his job to assure the security of this door. (And fetch ice for the bar, I believe.) Wrall and (let’s call her) Angel frantically explain the scenario: “I’m in the band! I’m supposed to be on stage!”
Meanwhile, in the background, he hears my voice, “Where’s Daddy Wrall? Make some noise for Daddy Wrall. Get him back out here to bring the show home!” I’m beginning to lose the audience by this point. They’re troopers, but they’ve screamed themselves hoarse calling for the anticipated triumphant return.
“There. You hear that? They are calling for me! That’s my name! Let me in!”
“No. I’m sorry. I cannot do that,” Boris says, restraining Wrall by the forearm. The situation is looking bleak. Boris doesn’t understand the gravity of this situation. He’s preventing the logical and much-desired conclusion to Miss Fairchild Presents The Miss Fairchild Show.
After a few painful minutes of miscommunication and (yes) manhandling Daddy Wrall- who we all agree is one of the nicest, most gentle, friendly, non-confrontational people on the planet- leans in real close and says in his best Alan Rickman voice: “Get your [funking] hands off me mother[lover].”
And then, his head proceded to rotate completely around.
Boris let go all right, and Wrall, his newfound gumption lasting a moment longer, leaned in real close, one eyeball popping from its socket. Boris, intimidated by this small bearded demon, recoiled in terror and DW seized his chance, bolting past the grasp of the stunned bouncer and onto the stage.
“I just flew in from Bulgaria and boy, are my arms tired!” he yelled. And we finished the show.
Madness. Spinal Tap-ian madness.
Well, many thanks to Debba, Rick, The Crown & AM Group for a fun night. And you: thank you for coming. See you next time!
(By the way, I met Boris. Nice guy!)