The true story of when I was a Hot Box Doll.

It has been quite the gangstery weekend down here in Canada. Yesterday the Fam Damily and I watched Stand Up Guys with Al Pacino and Christopher Walken in it, which by the way, was an excellent movie, and today, Gran and Mamère and I went down to Niagara-on-the-Lake to see Guys and Dolls at the Shaw Theatre.

Wow, look at me name droppin’ like it ain’t no thang. Swag.

Now, you probably don’t know this, internet, but I was quite the little actress back in my day. I have, in fact, been in two plays.

The first, I was ten years old and it was a production of Really Rosie. I was in the chorus as the letter G and I had to sing the line “G Getting Giggles and also do some elaborate oooing and mime laughing and or having a seizure, which was a lot to process for me at the time. I was not a coordinated child.

The second time, I was twelve and I was a Hot Box Doll in Guys and Dolls, which is why this story is semi-relevant.  You can bet your mama’s marinara sauce I was the best Hot Box Doll that my elementary school has ever seen and will ever see again.

However, my extraordinary  skill at doodle-oodle-doodling attracted the attention of the “lead” hot box doll (Not Adelaide, mind you. Just another hot box girl.).  This girl, whom we shall refer to as Boomer because she’s probably a Cylon, is my ex-best friend, and this is the story of our first major argument.

Now, out of some contrived righteousness of some sort on Boomer’s part, she determined that the Hot Box Dolls must have different outfits according to their roles in the play. Namely, that the Hot Box Girls with speaking parts got to wear a red bandana and the ones without had to wear blue for our performance of “A Bushel and a Peck”.

Like this, but y’know. Less stripping.

Now, this was utter malarky, because I was the ONLY Hot Box Doll without a speaking part. However, Boomer only got to say “Oh, Adelaide, you’re such a lucky gal!” whereas I got to steal TWO pocket watches and a wallet. So you tell me who had the more compelling part.

Anyways, we got into a gigantic kerfuffle about the whole thing, because Adelaide and I thought that having just one Hot Box Doll without a red bandana looked sloppy, and Boomer was persistent that it was a necessity, and quite honestly, if our dear principal hadn’t stepped in, Adelaide and her Farmerettes might not have performed at all.

And guess what, dear readers. BOOMER DID NOT PREVAIL.

Good DOES triumph over evil after all.


  1. Pingback: True Life – I was a Stage Five Clinger, part 1. | her name was cassandra
  2. Pingback: Oh Canada. | her name was cassandra

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