I missed a call at 7p.m. from the director.

Then I missed her again at 9. Her voicemail was vague, simply asking for a call back. So I frantically dialed her, over and over, baffled at the busy signal which I have not heard in years.

Finally, at 9:18, she picked up.

“I have a few questions for you,” she said matter-of-factly following a little bit of a gush from me.

“Would you like to play the narrator?” she asked.

“Definitely,” I replied. There was a small feeling of relief that I would likely not need to adhere as strictly to rehearsal schedules with such a minor monologue.

“Also, do you think you could help us with the fight choreography?”

“Absolutely! That would be great if I could help!” I exuberated. A little more of my time, but well worth it, I imagined.

“Oh, and how would you like to be Gaston?”

I nearly choked. “I would *love* to be Gaston. That would be a thrill.” I said, nearly shouting.

She went on to say that they were impressed with my audition and that I made it difficult for them to see anyone else in the role. With my pudgy frame, bald pate and baby face, I was nervous that I would never get to be in such a role, but that is no longer a sticking point.

I will play Gaston. *Ben Affleck in Shakespeare in Love voice* I will play him.