Name Dropper

It seems that I've risen to a level in the cabaret scene where I know all the right names to drop. Today, when I might have been blogging, I was instead making a phone call I dreaded. Last week I had emailed the booking agent for the space I wanted to sing in. I had expected that I'd need to call but dreaded it. I've sung in this place before but not in a very long time. In my imagination the phone call spent a long time explaining who I am and dropping in the names of people I've worked with past and present to justify his returning my call. Except I'd have to be careful not to sound desperate.

I called and left a message but was cut off just after my name and number. The booker's machine was full. I expected that. Patted myself on the back for having tried and vowed to call again tomorrow but earlier in the day.

Mid-back pat my phone rang. 'Twas he! The Keeper of the Calendar. And he remembered me and he was happy to hear from me and excited to have me come back.

I'm still waiting to hear back from the accompanist so nothing is confirmed but it looks pretty promising that I'll be back on stage in New York in almost exactly two months. Best phone call ever.