Searching for an answer to the age old question, "What am I going to wear?" I emptied half of my closet and had clothes strewn all over the bed. Mother Nature had been fickle all weekend, in a sunny mood one moment and threatening to cry tears of rain in the next. I wonder if men go through the same agonizing process before a date? I decided on a wild pair of Cavalli pants and 4 inch heels, praying for enough rain to nix a long walk around town after the matinée. I was excited to see the show, and excited to see "Low"! I was hoping to keep my emotions at bay however during the performance. I always get all weepy at the theatre when the lights dim, the curtain rises, and the overture begins to play - who knows why? Plus, the score we would be hearing is very moving and always makes me cry (in a good way). I hate crying in front of anyone, I just hoped I wouldn't make any weird snuffling noises in front of Low! This was only our second "official" date after all. I made sure to put a mini pack of mouchoirs in my purse and caught the 13:05 to Paris. "Wow, fabulous pants!" Low praised my fashion choices appreciatively. "You look great." He welcomed me with a light kiss on the lips and offered his arm. "Shall we go?" We strolled arm in arm past Galeries Lafayette, pausing to admire the unique window displays of this famous department store. The streets were completely deserted, all the shops in the neighborhood being closed on Sundays and its residents indoors having dejeuner (lunch) with family. On Monday morning the streets and sidewalks would be teeming with activity, but for now we had the city to ourselves as we zigzagged our way toward the theatre Mogador, catching up on the weeks activities. "I had a good meeting with our backer" Low told me, "and we begin casting next week!" His London project was taking shape and he was obviously excited. "Excuse me" Low went to will call and picked up our tickets. "Would you like a program?" (5 bonus points) Souvenir in hand, we made our way to our seats. "Here, you should sit on the aisle" he offered generously. I knew the cast would enter through the aisles of the theatre so I awarded Low another 5 points for his thoughtfulness. I was already feeling little goosebumps of anticipation, not unlike the feelings I knew the actors were experiencing as they do before every performance. We settled in and looked around the theatre as the audience tricked in and took their seats. Low was perusing the program, paying special attention to the page of credits devoted to the production; director, choreographer, etc. "Huh" he grunted. "Did you find your name?" I asked naively, half joking. "No, it's been removed" he answered quietly. My eyebrows shot upward off my head. "So, you had something to do with this show?" It was beginning to dawn on me that Mr. Low-key was Mr. Big Time. "I produced it with my partner" he confessed. "And for some reason, he has taken my name off the credits". He was obviously pissed off. Just then the lights dimmed and the show began. I choked up as usual, tears welling in my eyes. I turned my head away from Low hoping he wouldn't notice, under the pretext of watching the cast move down the aisle toward the stage. The music was strong and beautiful, it was a brilliantly conceived entrance to an impressive production. And my date was one of the geniuses who had made all it happen years before! I was doubly impressed by how modest he was, all things considered. I remembered how he said "I play in the theatre a little, it's not really work" the first night I met him. He did more than play, I call tell you that! Soon it was intermission, and as we moved toward the lobby he offered me a drink. Always the gentleman he was going through the motions, but I could see he was very unhappy. "Are you enjoying the show?" he wanted to know. "It's an incredible production" I gushed, "the staging is nothing less than brilliant!" It was true - there hadn't been anything quite like it before or since. Low agreed. "I'm glad you're enjoying it" he smiled, but I could tell he was putting on a brave face. He had more important things on his mind- like the scathing letter he would send to his former partner. "Are you okay?" I asked sympathetically. I was feeling his pain. He nodded and offered a weak smile. "Let's go back in" he said as he took my arm and guided us back to our seats. I could hear the gears spinning in his head over the music as he mentally prepared to confront the offending party. We held hands during the second act, and I tried cheering him up with a charming smile now and then, but I could sense he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and put his blackberry to work. Who could blame him? The show was incredible though, and ended with a standing ovation. "You should be very proud" I told Low, "This was really a stroke of genius!" His vexation aside for a moment, he deservedly basked in the glow of the applause of an appreciative audience, this was his baby! We exited the theatre, and as we strolled along enjoying the fresh air he told me the backstory of how this production came to be. "Are you hungry?" he asked, "let's find a fabulous place and have a really good bottle of wine." "I know just the place" I said, "I just have to figure out how to get there from here!" I had a charming, quiet little bistro in mind, and I knew the food would cheer him up. Join us for dinner next friday and find out if a) the cuisine at Le Petit Pontoise makes everything all better, b) Low gets smashed and drunk dials his partner, or c) the kitchen catches on fire and we are forced to evacuate the restaurant!
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