It's Difficult to Be Famous

Anita Morris is not a phrase you often hear out loud. Her name spoken is like hearing wind chimes, it takes me back to a better place.

I was going to see Equus with my good friend and we were in the second to last row of the mezzanine. Behind us were three out-of-towners—those kind of girls—who attended the show with all intents and purposes of seeing Harry Potter's dick from the last row of the mezzanine.

We had the unfortunate luck of arriving 25 minutes early to the show. I only need to be in a theater for a maximum of five minutes before the show. Tonight we had 30 minutes (for shows always begins 5 minutes late) to mingle with the people around us.

I was trying to talk to my friend and I stopped abruptly when the excessively gay usher in his 50s said. "Who's that on your arm?"

Let's stop for a moment as I explain. I love Anita Morris, I love that she is tattooed on my arm. I love to explain it to those that will understand the tribute behind it. This was not going to be one of those moments.

I looked to my right to see that the 3 ladies were interested as well, "Yes, who is that?"

"It's. . .Anita. . .It's a Broadway dancer." I quickly responded, for anything more and their heads my have imploded.

"NO! That is ANITA MORRIS!" The Usher quickly spouted out, making sure I was not escaping so easily. "Well my God! That is Anita Morris! Look at that!" He clicked on his flashlight and began shinning it on my arm. "Anita Morris! I know her! Charlie. . ." He said trying to wave down an usher in a different aisle. "Charlie! It's Anita Morris! Yes, Anita Morris! Tattooed on his arm. . . That's right!" His flashlight still shinning shoulder, however at this point I was so red the light wasn't necessary.

"Who was she?" One of the three women asked.

"She was a dancer on Broadway. . ." I saw their eyes glaze over. "She was sexy. . . Nine the musical? She. . .curves. . .Raul Julia. . . Ovarian Cancer?" I knew that anything I said sounded like the Sex and the City theme song.

"I love her! I can't believe she's on your arm!" The usher kept spouting out, he had given up seating newcomers and instead would take their ticket and say, "Look at that! He has Anita Morris tattooed on his arm!" I threw my head back and laughed. How could this moment get more weird?

I realized that my head was still starring at the girls behind us and they thought I was listening, "I used to choreograph musicals in high schoo--"

"So did Bob Fosse, Jeremone Robbins and Michael Bennett. I like their stories better." I replied and turned back to my friend, ready to return to normalcy. Before I got a word out I heard.

"What is she up to these days? Oh, I love her!" His face glowing.

My friend took this moment to whisper into my ear, "You've found your soul mate. The man who can identify your tattoo. You will wed." My face turned a pale shade of grey and I realized what I had to tell the usher now. . .

"She is dead." There was a silence as the usher let in a quick draw of air. A mother finding out her child died on the battlefield, he had to keep up appearances.

The weight of the situation was quickly alleviated when one of the threesome behind me went, "AWK-WARD!" The situation was now fun again, for everyone except the usher.

"Oh. . . That's. . .That's just to bad. When did she die?"

"In 1994." I just needed to give the facts. I knew it would be enough. "Ovarian Cancer."

"Well that's is news to me!" He said this with such venom, I felt the ink on my arm boil. He was playing the shock off with surprise. He took a moment to blink and collect his emotions. "She was a darling woman! Have you seen Hotel New Hampsire?" His final test it seemed. He was trying to blind side me with something he thought I did not know.

"Yes. It's an interesting movie. This is my tribute to a wonderful woman! For without her you wouldn't have movies like Hotel New Hamshire!" I sat as I heard the 5 minute tone chime. Now we could begin the real show.