Fan Girl

It was still more than 30 minutes until the 9:30 p.m. show for which we had tickets, so we decided to see what was going on upstairs. There was a balcony overlooking the lobby. Was it a bar? We climbed the stairs and pushed open the heavy door, and sitting before us at a table surrounded by a lineup of diehard groupie-fans was Sandra Bernhard. We were there to see her, too, but we were much less gay than the rest of the crowd.

Ricky and I often find ourselves at places where we play the guessing game called: "Is Ricky the only straight man here?" I'm not sure why that happens, but it does. It happened at the Melissa Etheridge concert, and the Cyndi Lauper appearance at a club in South Beach. I don't know. I guess we just like gay stuff.

We sat down in two bright orange chairs just a few feet from the line and watched the goings-on. There was one very large man with a walkie talkie and a shirt that said "STAFF" on the back, but otherwise, there were meticulously dressed men with stylish shoes and glasses chatting up Sandra. "I saw you in LA." "I worked with you in..." Chuckle chuckle. Snap a picture. Sign a T-shirt.

We had seen Bernhard about five years ago, also in NYC, but in a larger venue. This was in Joe's Pub, part of The Public, the same organization behind Shakespeare in the Park in the summer. I loved her show the last time: She is a much better singer than I would have guessed. I'd always thought of her as a comedienne. But her act mixes storytelling and singing. And, okay, I have to admit it. If I can't be Tina Fey, I wouldn't mind being Sandra Bernhard. (Minus the being lesbian part. Not, as Seinfeld would say, that there's anything wrong with that.) I would love to have people pay to come hear me tell funny stories and rant about whatever I want (quite funnily, of course), and then periodically break out into song when I felt like it. Who wouldn't want to do that?

But in the meantime, I guess I'll just have to be satisfied with being a part of the audience, and blogging as funnily as I can.