Exchange with Blake, our star and my bedfellow, at last night's rehearsal:
EJ: "Do you mind if I leave my skirt on tonight? Because there isn't a comforter on that bed yet and I really don't feel okay just sitting in my underwear in a church."
Blake: "So I'll be up there in my boxers and you'll be fully clothed? Is that what you're saying?"
EJ: "No! I'll just still have my skirt on and...[weakly gestures towards lovely camisole which covers all manner of sins and is actually less revealing than most of my going-out tops]... OK, fine. But can we please make the bed first? I really don't feel comfortable up there with nothing to cover my ass."
Harlene, our costume designer, interjecting: "But sweetie, it's not you up there-- it's APRIL."
EJ: "Why does that not make me feel better?"
Blake: "Because that's Jesus staring down at you from the stained glass window."
EJ: "And he's PISSED."
And later, when the bed was made and Blake and I were under the most flimsy Ikea bedspread ever made:
Blake: "Stick your feet out! Curl your toes!"
EJ: "Oh my God, are you thrusting in time to the music?!?!"
We open in two weeks.