I was ten years old and booked as the star attraction at a Cub Scout Banquet. My dressing room turned out to be just the space underneath a table at the restaurant. I was stuck under that table filling the double wall of my tricky milk pitcher, collapsing my appearing cane, fooling with my Hydrostatic glass, and tending to other assorted activities until I was called to the stage.The dressing room was unsatisfying for numerous reasons, the lack of privacy being chief among them. The Cubs who noticed me under there were alarmed and not receptive to sharing the space. At one point, I was repeatedly kicked in the neck by a young restless Cub. Another spilled coleslaw on my hair which I had to rinse off with a half-drunk water glass from the table. Though it was never explicitly stated, I’d been under the impression that the Cubs would not be dining on the tabletop above my dressing room.
On the good side, it was a banquet table with seating for eight to ten, so the under-table dressing room was spacious, and it was centrally located, within easy walking distance to the stage. The show went okay but I was never able to get the New England clam chowder smell outta my pants. If it weren’t for the free unlimited Cheddar Bay Biscuits, I’d never have booked another Cub Scout Banquet at Red Lobster.
