So we’re in Branson on our 24th anniversary, watching an evening show called “The Cat’s Pajamas,” which is an acapella group of five guys. They are very good. It’s a high-energy act. This was at the Andy Williams Moon River theater.
What often happens at these shows, to the horror of audience members, is that they come into the audience and draft someone to go up on stage with them. Liam, one of the guys who happens to come from Wales, settled on my wife. Pam initially refused to go with him. She denies that she resisted, but I know what I saw, or at least that’s what I want to believe. With minor cajoling from Liam, however, Pam–much to my astonishment–got out of her seat and went with him onto the stage. Maybe it was the irresistible British accent.
Pam had no idea what they had in store.
There, these five guys serenaded her with “Pretty Woman,” getting very up close and personal, in my opinion. Liam sat on a chair in the middle of the stage and invited Pam to sit on his lap. Which she did. A bit too eagerly, perhaps? She was getting a lot of attention from these five young, attractive, virile young men.
After the song, Pam took Liam’s arm as he escorted her off the stage. But then one of the guys came up and grabbed her hand and dragged her back to the center of the stage. They sat Pam down in that chair and then swirled (closely!) around her, while singing Franky Valli’s “Stay” (“Won’t you stay just a little bit longer”). There was much touching, and much mussing of my wife’s hair.
When one guy sang, “Won’t you place your sweet lips on mine?” and offered a cheek, Pam shook her head “no.” When another guy sang, “Won’t you say you love me all of the time?”, she again shook her head no. So that was reassuring to me.
Mind you, 24 years ago, this was our wedding night. Now, a year short of the 25-year-itch, I find my bride on stage cavorting with five young (I keep emphasizing “young”) men, all of them wearing leather, all with full heads of hair. All sweating profusely, thanks to their very energetic act. Pam attested to the sweat, since they were freely touching her.
Did I mention that they were TOUCHING MY WIFE!
Meanwhile, as my bride was being vocally and physically ravished in front of a live audience, I was…well, I was laughing my fool head off.
This time, Liam DID escort Pam off the stage and back to her seat. On the way, he asked her where she was from. She told him, “Fort Wayne, Indiana.” Oh, he said, northeast Indiana, and said some other things indicating he was familiar with Fort Wayne.
After the show, as we neared the theater exit, Liam chased us down. Actually, chased Pam down, probably, since she was the one who willingly sat on his lap. He told us he had lived in Huntington. Huh? Yeah, he said, his girlfriend lived there. On Charles street, near a credit union. She worked for the Huntington Herald-Press, I believe he said.
Well, small world.1 Comment