course, to a big production number.
Tiny is somewhat astonished that his father has agreed to do this with him. And Tiny’s dad is very much astonished that he’s at a mother-daughter fashion show. This isn’t like the end of
Grease
, when Sandy is suddenly liberated by trying on a slutty girl’s clothes. Tiny’s dad is very uncomfortable.
What follows is a reflection of their emotions.
[“I KNOW THIS CAN’T BE EASY FOR YOU”]
TINY:
I know this can’t be easy for you.
DAD:
I won’t try to deny that it’s true.
TINY:
There are other ways of spending a Sunday . . .
DAD:
. . . than walking with your son down the runway.
TINY:
But here we are in matching outfits.
DAD:
Just look at where my waistline sits!
TINY:
Balls out with the family charm . . .
DAD:
. . . trying not to pull the nearest alarm.
TINY ( pause, then spoken ):
I’m really glad you’re here.
DAD:
I know it can’t be easy for you.
TINY:
I won’t try to deny that it’s true.
DAD:
There must be times when you feel like a target.
TINY:
Which is why I live my life like I’m totally jet-set.
DAD:
I just hope I’m a good father.
TINY:
I just hope I’m a good son.
TINY AND DAD:
I never know—
I only know—
this can’t be easy for you.
They head down the runway.
CHORUS OF ONLOOKERS:
I know this can’t be easy for you.
Just hold your smile
and see it through.
Everybody’s watching—
they always do.
Step forward
and forward
and never forget
the person standing next to you.
TINY:
In so many ways you amaze me.
DAD:
In so many ways you amaze me.
CHORUS OF ONLOOKERS:
I know this can’t be easy for you.
But it can be so many other things too.
TINY:
So hold your smile
DAD:
and see it through.
TINY AND DAD:
Together
we can do this.
You and I.
Here and now.
TINY:
You throw the ball and hope—
DAD:
You catch the ball and run—
TINY:
You walk wide—
DAD:
You walk tall—
TINY:
You don’t hide—
DAD:
You don’t fall—
TINY AND DAD:
Step forward
and forward
and never forget
the person standing next to you.
They make it through. With style.
ACT I, SCENE 8
Tiny comes downstage again, to allow for the scenery to change.
TINY:
Next up was Phil Wrayson. In order to come out to him, I invited him to the Gay Pride Parade in Boystown. For those of you not from the Chicago area, Boystown is, well, the place in town where boys who like boys go to be boys who like boys and see other boys who like boys. You would think that this destination alone would have been my coming-out statement, but such is the logic of a boy coming out to his best friend that even at a Gay Pride Parade, the conversation needed to be had, no matter how nervous-making it was.
As Tiny is talking, the stage transforms into a Pride parade, complete with drag queens, leather daddies, gay parents, and (if you can fit them onstage) Dykes on Bikes. Phil Wrayson is right there with them, looking out of place, but not self-consciously so.
PHIL ( coming up to Tiny ):
I’m trying to imagine what the straight equivalent of this would look like.
TINY:
The morning commute?
PHIL:
I was just asked by a drag queen if I was into otters. I’m hoping she didn’t mean that literally. That has to be a nickname for something, right?
TINY ( nervously ):
Phil, there’s a reason I brought you here.
PHIL ( not getting it ):
I hope it’s not to pimp me out to otters. Truly, I’m not into otters.
TINY:
Phil, I’m gay.
PHIL ( mock-stunned ):
No!
TINY ( in earnest ):
It’s true.
PHIL:
You mean, like, you’re happy.
TINY:
No, I mean, like, that guy is hot.
He points to a hot guy in a skintight yellow tank top—or some such article of clothing. You know, the kind where the guy looks more naked than if he were actually naked?
TINY:
And if I talked to him for a while and he had a good personality and respected me as a person I would let him kiss me on the mouth.
PHIL ( appearing not to comprehend