Kinky Boots. Have you ever waited at the stage door?

On Saturday, my boyfriend surprised me with tickets to the matinée of Kinky Boots at the Hirschfeld Theatre. Kinky Boots was a blast, from the kick-ass soundtrack (Thanks, Cyndi Lauper!) to the bedazzled outfits and custom-made boots. Billy Porter, well, he and his character (Lola), are the stars of the show and together they deliver a pretty awesome message about accepting people for who they are. Kinky Boots is hardly the first show to deliver such a message, but something about their approach made it not cheesy in the least. When the show let out (after a whopping two well deserved standing ovations), I knew I had to move fast if I wanted to get to the stage door. I'm an old hand at stage-dooring shows. Leaving a Broadway play without at least trying to meet the cast and have them sign my playbill really rubs me the wrong way. Stage-dooring is an art and I'll be the first to admit that there's a lot of room for error. It can be tiring, and oftentimes, the bigger stars don't even make an appearance, or if they do they just go straight to their car without making eye contact. Luckily, I have a lot of practice. The closer to the stage door, the better, so depending on the popularity of the show, leaving the theatre while the cast is mid bow will most likely guarantee you a prime spot. However,  at the time, I was too thrilled with the show to think clearly and I stayed and applauded until the very end. Once I realized my mistake I made a run for it, dragging my reluctant boyfriend along with me, and while we didn't get a spot very close to the stage door, we had a spot, and that was good enough for me.

And so, in the cold, we waited. 20 minutes went by and I got autographs from every single cast member except for Billy. Where was he? Obviously, he had just put on a phenomenal show and deserved to rest. After all, he had another show coming that night in addition to the one I'd just seen. But I still couldn't shake my feeling of disappointment. I needed a picture with him, or at least an autograph! Right when all appeared to be lost, and my hands and nose bore the unmistakable signs of having been in the cold for far too long, the adolescent shrieks of girls by the stage door gave it away. Or should I say him? There he was: Billy. In all his kinky glory. I couldn't hold back a shriek of my own. Once a theatre geek, always a theatre geek...

He made his way down the line of fans, taking his time to greet each and every person, until he finally made it to me. All the intelligent conversation I had planned for our meeting deserted me, and I couldn't do much more than smile like an idiot. But I ended up getting my picture and an autograph, and I'm pretty sure I floated all the way back to the train station.

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Kinky Boots @ Hirschfeld Theatre