It's time to play the music

Tonight the show opened. Woo hoo! There was even an audience, and the cast got very excited, but then the director revealed that he had given out thirty seven complimentary tickets, which slightly took the edge off. Naturally it was a triumph, though sadly it's not clear whether the audience thought so. It is a rather difficult work. Sweetly, one chap reported that his sister said I was the best thing in it. As most of my appearances consist of walking on with a box, the message to take from that would seem to be that the play's most successful moments are when there are no speeches or dialogue of any kind, which is not an optimistic evaluation.
My chief contribution to the whole production, other than to clutter up the stage for the most possible time with the least possible reason, has been the provision of a rather obscure prop. At the audition it transpired that one of the servant roles involves swinging a censer. Now, there are not many occasions in life upon which the claim to have been dining with a handsome young collector of thuribles only the previous night can be made with truth, and still fewer upon which one would freely admit it. For just this claim to be hailed with an admiration bordering on awe, and with the immediate welcome into an obscure renaissance drama of someone with exactly no qualifications in any relevant field, is surely unique. But it is a point of fact: I have had a wonderful month of happy rehearsals and nice new friends and impromptu dinner party invitations and backstage gossip, and all thanks to a random boozy evening with a man who spends his free time and money on the acquisition of ecclesiastical bric-a-brac. You couldn't make it up.