Joining The Adult Company ... A Poem - Ian (Adult Company)

Finding My Identity

It was my friend Bev.

At the theatre, she gave me a mission.

Handed me a cocktail during the intermission and said

"You once told me, you wanted to act.

Wanted to sing and dance in fact";

"Errrmm, no?";

I'd probably had a drink.

I get loose lips. Could make battleships sink.

"No, No, No. You said you were an acting ace.

That it was your first step, towards winning Drag Race";

"MATE! How much wine did I have that night?

I mean...it was the Aldi merlot talking, right?"

I do sometimes say things I later regret,

and now I was well caught up in her net.

"I've got a friend. She's starting a theatre group

on Tuesdays. Make sure you sign...yourself...up!"

"Yes Bev...After all, I'm cultured don't you know"

Then we headed back to the second half

of the adult panto.

The next day I’m sat there, staring at my screen.

How do you address a drama group Queen?

I need to sound confident for a theatre session.

Project myself. Make a good impression.

"Hi Jo.

Hope you are well. My name is Ian.

My friend says you're looking for a Thespian and...

I...I...I...

I mean…IjustwannaletyaknowthatIvegotnoexperiencewhatsoever,

I mean…literallyIjustputonafewcrazyvoicesfordungeonsanddragonseverysaturdaynight,

Andyouveprobablygotloadsandloadsofproperactorssignedupforitanywaysoyoudontreallywantme,

Sotobehonestimreallynotsurewhyimevenwritinginthefirstplacesoyoucanjustignorethisreallyand……….

Kind Regards?

Best Regards?

Regards…

Ian.

Oh God, that looks s**t!

I went to delete it, heard my mouse go click.

Ahhh, I've accidentally sent it. You stupid...useless...donkey...

Two weeks later I'm sat outside in my car.

OMG, how the hell has it got this far?

I check my mail - "Hey Ian! That's great!

We'll see you on Tuesday at quarter past eight"

I look at the time. SEVEN…FORTY…THREE???

I'm half an hour early. And I need a nervous wee.

I go for a walk to try and clear my head

and get rid of this fluttering feeling of dread.

No. Time to be brave. I'm finally here.

Breaching this terrifying acting frontier.

My Wife. She used to worry. "Was everything okay?"

The questions have changed now, cos she knows what I'd say.

Now it's

"Who were you tonight?"

"What was your best line?"

"Were you camping it up again??"

"Was Donna’s character drinking wine??"

And now...she just rolls her eyes

“Hey! Husband? Oi!!

I’m sick of listening to your singing scouse cowboy!

Shouting in bed at 1am

"Ahhh, I wish I'd thought of that line back then!

I'd have looked so witty. I'm such a muppet”.

"You can sleep downstairs if you don't shut it..."

“I'm sorry Wife. But can't you see?

I'm reprising my role as a tragic tree”

So yeah. I know.

I may not make Drag Race,

but it's much more than that.

This is my safe space.

A place I can come to every week

look and wear what I want without feeling a freak.

Dare to look different, and act the same

Be open. Be myself. With no sense of shame.

My own personal runway, where I do feel all glam.

So cheers Bev.

And thanks for introducing me.

To my drama Fam.