odd couple of miracles

I am writing to you half corked. A bit of an experiment. I didn’t expect to be blotto this evening, but it has been quite the adventure. A very busy day was followed by a mad cap evening. I picked up Serwa, a mother of a child Nora plays with at school, and I took her to the Arts Club opening of The Odd Couple. To my understanding, she had never been to a live theatre production before.  She thought I was taking her to a movie and was very surprised to learn we were seeing live actors. And because I get artist comps we were literally front row, centre. During the show a pickle flew off the stage and over our heads. Then the fire alarm went off in the middle of the show and they had to stop it for a while to make sure it was just the hazer and not something more sinister.Unknown images kurdwomen

While we were waiting, Serwa shared some of her life with me. She is from Kurdistan and became involved in a woman’s liberation campaign that ended with her in jail for six months under Saddam Hussain’s reign. She managed to escape to Canada with her family.

This story certainly upstaged the plight of Felix and Oscar.

But that said, the play was so very fun! An old chestnut well dusted off. Beautifully performed and finely directed, we both really enjoyed the evening and the actors were good sports about the fire alarm interruption. Between the alarm and the pickle, Serwa certainly got a taste of “live” entertainment!

Being opening night, I had many conversations with friends and later explained to Serwa that I didn’t know everyone in Vancouver, but the house was papered with comps for actors.

We went for a drink afterwards and shared stories about our lives. I will respect her privacy and not tell you anything more – even though I am dying to because she is so fascinating. I will say that she is now married to a very kind and liberal thinking Kurdish man who is cool with babysitting the kids while she hangs out with the “actress” all hours of the night. We have one drink each. She says she isn’t used to drinking, being raised Muslim, and when she does drink now, it just makes her cry. I tell her it makes me love everyone extraordinarily well and then ten minutes later I’m fast asleep. We have a good chuckle and a great visit.

Suddenly the server comes to us with a line of shots. The table right next to us, a bunch of rowdy fellows, have decided to buy us drinks. They were all in the restaurant business, about the same age as us, maybe a bit younger. They knew they were inadvertently invading our space with their celebrations so invited us in. I looked at Serwa, she looked at me, and down the hatch they went! Before I knew it, we were all laughing uproariously over God knows what. It was a very fun night.

On the way out…I see a woman I haven’t seen in a couple of years. Not since my “crazy years”. (2009-2010 were my crazy years…too many bad things happened in a row and I was a little out of sorts) This woman I hardly knew, but I really liked her. She was having a hard time having a baby. And in my crazy time I had the audacity to write her out of the blue and talk about the pain of miscarriage. That her baby was a part of the family she had lost and she has a right to grieve it. And other such intimate things that in my “sane” years I wouldn’t presume to write to her and say. I came up to her tonight and before I could apologize…she put her arm around my shoulder and told me how much it meant to her. She’s kept the letter. That even in my “crazy”, it met her where she was at.

Then we bumped into the incredibly handsome Marco Soriano who gave me a kiss.

Serwa and I drove home in a cab and I assured her that I did not always live this way.  She said, “The next time you have more tickets for the theatre, YOU BRING ME AGAIN! This was one of the best nights of my life.”

As she skipped out of the cab with a kiss on my cheek and a happy wave the cabbie said, “She has such a beautiful smile.” And I agreed.

The cabbie overheard us talk about our kids and he chimed in that he had four. He was from Punjab and hoped to go back and make a summer home. And he added, “And you’d never know my wife had four kids. I can’t believe I am such a lucky man. She is HOT. My wife. So hot. I don’t know how she does it. But I am grateful.”

I come home to my poor little horny cat. She is splayed out on the rug in that “take me now” position…and in my slightly tipsy state it just makes me laugh. “Had a few drinks, did we?” I ask her.

And tonight everything is possible. Felix can end up bunking with the Pigeon sisters. Oscar can end up putting coasters under drinks. A huge crazy embarrassment can turn out to be a blessing. A female protestor can escape Kurdistan.  And a man with four kids can find his wife hot.

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1 comment

  1. April Jean Coots

    I just love this. It takes me back to the memory of the mother of my best friend who took me to my first live theatre experience (I was eight…. And the play was Peter Pan.)
    It was such a world-opener for me. I remember, even then, being impacted not only by the play, but by the revelation that going to the theatre was something that some people actually DO…

    Coming, as I did, from a family for which there wasn’t a cultural precident for going to the theatre. (Books, yes. Theatre, no…) this paradigm shifting revelation was equally profound as the play itself!

    She thought she was sharing a ticket, but she was really giving me an entre to a whole universe that I would not have easily found on my own.

    I’m still so grateful.

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