Mamela, The Glamazon and I have a charming tradition. On the occasion of one of our birthdays, we treat the birthday girl to a girls night out for dinner and theater. Not only is the guest of honor feted in style, but the other two participants enjoy it as well. The birthday girl gets to choose the show but the expense and other details are handled by the other two. Since our birthdays are separated by a convenient period of months, this makes for nicely spaced outings during the course of the year.

Last night we celebrated The Glamazon's birthday (which was actually in December, but conflicting work/travel commitments made scheduling a challenge). The play last night was an off-Broadway revival of "The Fantasticks." It was held in a shoebox sized performance space on Broadway off 50th named The Snapple Theatre. To get to the theater space required walking up the equivalent of two flights of narrow stairs, whereupon we were greeted by a big Snapple vending machine and a snack bar hawking Snapple water, beverages and logo encrusted hats. That's nice of Snapple to support art like this--and I mean it. It was a warm, intimate space.

The theater itself housed maybe 75 seats, ringing a level 20x14 stage area. For this show, the theater was only half full. We had seats right in front center, almost on the stage area itself. Nothing but the best for our Glamazon! In these don't-cross-you-legs-or-you'll-trip-the-actor-making-his-entrance seats, we settled in excitedly for the show.

Now, I am one of those people who enjoys a good show--what Jewels calls "a good audience member." I really am. Never self conscious, I feel free to jump to my feet if the brilliance of the performance warrants it. I whoop, I clap with my hands over my head, I reward the artful performer with his due if they have convinced and moved me. It's emotional and uncontrollable, but as an audience member, I do want to be absorbed in what unfolds in front of me. I never hold back because an artist works hard for their money and their accolades.

"The Fantasticks" commenced and indeed, the actors gestured and sang and emoted mere feet from us. It was thrilling. The singing was fine, the acting sublime and then, the trouble began. There is a section in the story where two cohorts of El Gallo emerge, Mortimer and the Old Actor. The two actors playing these parts were very goofy and suddenly, like a wild hair, I could not control my laughing at their mugging characters. This seemed to spur them on to play over the top, which spurred further laughter until tears were rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mamela delicately extract a tissue which she pressed into my hand to blot my face.

At the intermission, I went into the ladies room. A woman standing behind me in the queue said, "You were as funny as the play! You were making me laugh!" Oh, Jesus. I apologized for being disruptive, but she insisted it was not.

Act II commenced. I felt composed as I resumed my seat. As the act unfolded, I kept my composure until, yes, the re-emergence of Mortimer and the goofy Old Actor. Aw, Christ. I started tittering with laughter again until I was begging for another Kleenex from Mamela. The actors seemed to eat it up, but trust me, it wasn't forced. They were very funny. The only problem was I was laughing loudly and heartily while the rest of the audience politely giggled. And then at one point after a song, I started to clap and the actor playing El Gallo clasped my hands to stop them from clapping and said in a stage whisper, "Not yet!"

When the show was over, The Glamazon and I waited for Mamela in the lobby. A man came up to me, who I recognized from the audience. "You really enjoyed the show, didn't you?" he asked. I wasn't sure if he was angry so I nodded tentatively. "You cracked me up. You made the show for me," he said. I looked at the Glamazon in wonder. Moments later, another man came up to me and said the same thing.

Being this is off-Broadway, the actors were exiting the theater as we did, magically dressed in their street clothes. As we trod down the long flight of stairs, we thanked them for their wonderful performances. And would you believe each one we ran into looked at me and said, "Oh..it's YOU!" Unintentionally, I made an impression. I hope it was a good one.

Regardless, they certainly made a good impression on me. I was still laughing to myself in the cab on the way home.