In and about the delightfully semi-organized chaos of backstage during the opening show this week, the following (or at least approximately the following), the party band drummer approached me somewhat awkwardly, that kinda sweet awkward way people have when they’re trying to ask something they’re not 100% sure about how to ask…
Oh hey, Shaughnessy, meant to ask you – I’m trying to organize a band dinner for the ‘Cats, and I was wondering if you would like to join us?
Me? But…I’m not a ‘Cat?
Yeah, I know, but you…kinda are. I mean you’re always with us, and you’re so super supportive and I know Amras would love for you to be there…
Well, I’m flattered then…but only if you check with him first…I don’t want to actually invade on band territory or anything
Don’t worry…I will…
And he did, apparently he told Amras that I’m something like the 5th Beatle ;), Amras agreed of course – I somewhat knew he would, but I’m very sensitive about not treading on the band’s time together. I am, after all, not officially a ‘Cat, nor will I ever be unless my voice changes from show tune to pop over-night, and I always try to be aware of the fact that I share my big brother with his job. Anyway, said drummer put in said request to the dining room, and because this is a very busy cruise with high guest demand for reservations pretty much everywhere, none of us really thought anymore of it.
Then I got a knock on my door this afternoon after shift, I hadn’t even bothered to close it as I was pretty much planning on heading right back out again on some random errand. I turned to the knock, thinking it was Amras or my cabin steward, who are pretty much the only people who ever knock on my door. But when I pull it open, it’s neither of those two people, it’s Johe, telling me that the dining room has just called him back, and that they have an opening for 7…in 15 minutes.
blink…
You called Amras?
No, you’re the first one I found, ‘cause your door was open…
Okay…hang on a sec
So I ring my brother, and wince when he answers the phone having obviously just been asleep which always makes me feel guilty, but at least the promise of proper dining room food was worth waking him up for. That touched off the chain of phone calls, which led to all of us sitting around one of the biggest tables in the lower level of the dining room, clinking glasses, tearing into Alaskan King Crab legs, and going one by one around the table with the question of who played what when.
First paying gig: how old were you, what was it, and how much did they pay you?
Some very random answers came out of that question: two punk rock bands, one jazz group, one busker, oh and one gig for the FBI (Amras claims he doesn’t quite know how he got there, I think he went in the back of an unmarked van 
). I naturally assumed they’d skip me, because I’m not a working musician at the moment, nor have I ever been. I mean yes, I’m a musician, I’ve been paid to perform but I’ve not really been paid to sing, except the one time I was hired to provide entertainment at a wake…my resume is full of community theatre, professional theatre and semi-pro theatre, plus two commercials. But, my big brother was not about to leave me out…
Sis, what about you?
Me?
Yes you.
Um…okay…but my first performance gig wasn’t music, it was acting, I don’t know if it counts
It counts
Um…okay then.
So I told the table about working a circus exhibit for 6 months, and how that led into my semi-pro stuff, which ultimately led to Rocky Horror, which remains the best show I’ve ever done. I would have just told them about the wake, but I didn’t land that gig until I was 21, and I’d been performing so long before then that it would feel weird to list that as a “first”
Whilst this was all going on, we were polishing off the main course and they came around to take the dessert order. Now, when you go to the dining room there are deserts that are always there, and then there are the specialty deserts that you might get once a cruise if you’re lucky. As soon as I opened that menu I knew precisely what was ordering, because it basically jumped off the page and screamed my name
Could I have the baked chocolate soup please?
I was the only one at the table who ordered it, but when it arrived in a champaigne flute and turned out to be more of a …soufflé? I don’t really know how to describe it, except perhaps heaven in a glass…I just handed it around the table.
I’ll…um…take that back before you actually try it.
The piano player hands the flute back to me, raises and eyebrow and puts her spoon in her mouth…and immediately just closes her eyes.
Yeah, that’s why I asked for it back!
At which point Amras just looks at me, and I hold the champagne flute out to him.
Oh my god
I know right!
Death by chocolate, whilst among friends…so not a bad way to go…