I met Frank Sinatra!


They semi got my name right today. They forgot the “RE”.

Only one person has called me “Becca” in my lifetime, that being a friend from college. His name was Denis. Well his name is still Denis. That is one too many.

Last night my parents, sister [yesss I do have a sister], and I went out to dinner at a restaurant “Chez Josephine”. [by the way I used to spell the word restaurant wrong until about two months ago] then we proceeded to go to the Frank Sinatra play “Come Fly Away”.

The play began and within six minutes, I realized there was no talking in the show… just dancing. This, in combination with all the Frank Sinatra music in combination with cramped seating, in combination with tight skinny jeans suffocating my calfs, was a recipe, equation, and formula for disaster. The performers had amazing talent and were extremely muscular with nonfat bodies. It is amazing how many lifts, turns, and balancing there was. The lifts amazed me the most. Every now and then, I pick up a human [usually my size or smaller] and I can hold them for like ten seconds. I concluded it is two sided though- the woman jumps as the man lifts. It is not solely about the man lifting. I bet you’re wondering what circumstances are happening for me to be picking up people- it’s usually my good friend or sister and me being like “please let me pick you up”. Then they run away, as if they were a 16-yera old delinquent.

At the end of the show the dancers bowed, the audience clapped, then we had a seance to conjure the ghost of Frank Sinatra. I guess I didn’t put 2 and 2 together when I read the front cover of the playbill.

My dad was weary, but we stayed for the seance and after three minutes of chanting “Appear Frank, Appear”, a breeze blew through the theater, I felt a shiver on my spine and I became seized with an uncontrollable shaking. My legs took over my body and in a trance, I made my way up to the stage. I knew Frank had taken over my body in order to communicate with the audience. I couldn’t control my actions, but could see what was happening, as if I were sitting on my shoulder watching the outside world. Frank/I jumped on stage in one giant leap [pretty impressive I might add] Everyone gasped. Frank/I then ran to the microphone said “Cue the music Jimmy” and then danced/sang one song. As I was sitting on my shoulder during the performance, I kept trying to whisper questions into my ear [to Frank] saying “Why does your play have only dancing and no words”. When Frank stopped singing, he whispered to me, “Why are you wearing such tight skinny jeans?” I said, “Touché Frank, touché.” Frank didn’t leave my body until 2am last night when I finally fell asleep in my bedroom. The last thing he told me was that my room was really messy and to clean it. More speficically i think he said, “This is no way for a lady to keep her room. Goodbye Becca”. I inhaled as I re-entered my own body and said “Damn you friend…you forgot the RE.” I held my fist and shook it to the sky. End scene.

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