The other day I was skimming through my resume, when I was reminded of a couple of stints I was involved in on the "boards" at the Globe Theatre in West Hollywood, where I honed my acting skills among other things.
In one of the productions (where I played a lowly messenger) I appeared on stage at the beginning of the production for about three seconds.
Then, did not make another entrance until the final act of the Shakespearean play.
So, for about an hour or so each evening, I usually twiddled my thumbs on the sidelines or rehearsed my lines in the parking lot out back ad nauseam.
How much drama can you dredge up from three simple lines, eh?
No matter.
During the course of the four week run, I managed to conjure up every conceivable nuance, all in the name of my craft and the great tradition of the Theatre!
As most residents of West Hollywood are no doubt aware, the Globe Theatre used to share a parking lot with the trendy watering hole, Hugo's.
One night, as I strutted about in the dark lot rehearsing my lines, a well-known celebrity (with date in tow) strode toward their car after a candlelit dinner at the chic little boite.
As I glanced over, the celeb must have been thrown off-guard.
For a mesmerizing second or two - our eyes locked - and pangs of desire fired up in my chest (and elsewhere!).
Sadly, the couple scrambled into the waiting vehicle and within seconds they were cruising off down the street, out of sight.
Meanwhile, I was left behind in a lurch fantasizing about what may have been!
Within minutes, I was back rehearsing my lines.
Suddenly, about ten minutes later, the Hollywood Star drove back into the parking lot, alighted from the vehicle, and shyly glanced in my direction.
Perplexed, I stared back.
For one egotistical moment, I assumed cupid returned for me!
"Forgot my credit card," the sexy thespian mumbled.
Foolish me!
After dashing inside, the TV personality strode back to their car.
I thought that was that.
But, as we stared in each other's direction, we were inexplicably drawn to each other for some strange reason.
Within seconds, we were suddenly standing face to face under the romantic starry night.
Then, found ourselves in a clinch kissing passionately.
Before I knew it, we were in the front seat of my car, going at it!
No mean feat - since I was dressed in full Elizabethan costume - with lace up boots, tights, and a nattily-designed jacket festooned with fancy doo-dads and restricting fashion flourishes here and there!
Notwithstanding, the intensity of the scenario was heightened by the fact I was due on stage in about eight minutes and my breath-taking tryst needed to get back to their date before suspicions were aroused - um - so-to-speak.
As my sexy companion drove off, I was in ninth heaven.
But, my high spirits quickly plummeted to earth when the irate strains of the stage manager's voice pierced the cool night air in search of me.
No acting required here.
The scene called for me to dash up to the King - out-of-breath - and report news of such great import that it would impact the Nation. In view of what had just transpired, and the dilemma I had just been in, I managed to pull off my moment in the spotlight "believably" for the first time on stage and without one hitch!
For a short time after that, my clandestine date and I would occasionally cross paths at A-list parties around Tinsel town. Usually, we'd just grin at each other sheepishly from across a crowded room, then go on our merry way with our dates.
Although the individual has since passed to spirit, I often recall that fated occasion when our lone ships passed in the night.
Better to have had one precious moment of passionate love in secret than none at all.
Star-crossed lovers?
You bet!
