Scene: Charlotte's office at the opera company. A woman who would like to sing for the opera company next summer has found Charlotte and has roped her into to helping her get in touch with those who will be making casting decisions about the 2009 Season. Charlotte helps her leave notes and messages with the appropriate people, and as we join the scene they are doing a little bit of getting-to-know-you-chatting:
HOPEFUL SINGER: Yeah, I met [name withheld for privacy reasons] a couple of years ago. I think he's got me confused with someone else though. He always calls me Sarah (not her name), and asks me how my little girl is doing.
CHARLOTTE (motioning toward Hopeful's rounded belly): Oh, and you don't have children yet?
HOPEFUL SINGER: No, this will be my first. She is a girl though.
CHARLOTTE: Well how exciting! Congratulations.
HOPEFUL SINGER: Thanks. Congratulations to you as well. I take it this isn't your first?
CHARLOTTE (wondering how Hopeful came to this conclusion, mentally imagining the crows feet she has around her eyes and resolving to (again) start using that night moisturizing creme that she bought over a year ago): Actually, it is.
HOPEFUL SINGER: Oh--well that's great!
CHARLOTTE: Yeah. So, when are you due?
HOPEFUL SINGER: At the end of October.
CHARLOTTE (as enthusiastic as she gets with people she has just met within the last 15 minutes): Really? I'm due at the beginning of October.
HOPEFUL (ALSO TACTLESS, HEARTLESS, AND CRUEL) SINGER (wide-eyed): Oh really? You mean I'm going to look like that soon?
CHARLOTTE (crestfallen, but trying to hang on to her dignity)(laughs feebly): Oh, yeah, I guess so . . .
The conversation goes on for a bit, but mercifully, it soon ends. Hopeful leaves. Charlotte briefly contemplates ripping up and setting fire to the note she helped Hopeful create before it gets to the proper people, but decides that she's a better (and bigger!) woman than that. Instead, she contents herself with imagining Hopeful at 9-months pregnant, bloated from head to toe and covered in varicose veins, kneeling at Charlotte's feet and begging forgiveness, all while Charlotte (who has lost every ounce of pregnancy weight she ever gained) holds her beautiful, angelically behaved 3-week old baby and maintains a maddeningly patronizing air toward Hopeful.
And life goes on as normal from there.
Oh-and just in case you're wondering, at my doctor's appointment on Wednesday morning, Dr. F. told me that my weight was just right for this point in my pregnancy.
TAKE THAT, LITTLE MISS HOPEFUL!
Whew! I feel much better now.
(I know I said I wouldn't be writing for a few days, but this experience was just too good to go un-blogged.)