The Tiniest Anthony

It is our first day post show, so first thing this morning, I met a woman who said “girls, this lady does theater” to her two girls. They just nodded with their mouths open. I had just woken up, so I was a baritone. Then the woman said “do people stop you all day?” I said “yes,” which is a lie, because they only stop one guy from our cast constantly, probably because he is terrific and also because he is the only African American human in the cast. Then she said “probably when they hear your voice huh.” And I said “haha.”

So I ate a salad, because I was going to have 2 cookies. It is mobbed with human beings. One teenager stared at me, horrified, so he clearly saw the show. Then I sat outside and a 1 year old stared at me for probably 4 minutes solid. I did some faces and crazy ways to eat salad, which he found confusing or more reason to study me. His mom then said “Anthony, stop staring.” Everyone is named Anthony. Then a Filipino bus-girl with non-amazing English said “oh he is so cute!” and knelt down for a chat, which happened with the 30-ish New Jersey woman mom. The bus-girl was very interested in how old the kid was and his name. Apparently “Anthony” is difficult to understand and pronounce if you speak Tagalog normally, which is pretty hilarious considering that bus girl has just learned the name of probably 1,000 passengers. The mom was very concerned about the bus-girl’s contract and how long she is at sea. Also her hours and if she can get off the ship. And she was asking all of these questions in the loud, nasal New Jersey way, and the soft spoken Filipino girl held Anthony’s hand and smiled and laughed and generally had a very good time.

The brother of our music director is on board and described the Ganges, that they don’t cremate cows or priests, so they are just floating along in the river. This is the kind of thing to remember when you see an Indian gentleman picking up after an incredibly lazy American who just say, threw a cookie on the ground. Mainly, instead of flipping out that he is oppressed and miserable, maybe it’s like “meh, not a big deal. Have you seen my bathroom! My English is getting so AWESOME!” Same with all the folks from Peru who work here. Or maybe they don’t care or whatever.

There is a crew band that plays every once in a while in the crew bar. They are not the paid musicians, just guys with guitars and someone’s drum set. The hilarious aspect is that all crew members basically have to have the same, very conservative haircut. Like there are life sized photos of how the crew members should dress with first-person little notes like “I have NO earrings and I’m wearing a little cologne to smell GREAT!” Also, one guy was wearing an “Aeropostale” shirt which he clearly bought at the mall in Florida. They try to look more badass with the addition of baseball hats. My favorite is that sometimes some of the crew members wear their hats like the hilarious Italian teenage gentleman on board. Meaning, a pristine baseball hat, artfully set at an angle. The crew members can’t do that in passenger areas, although I do not understand it. It feels like “I secretly dress like you.”