That was hot.

No, really: That was hot.

Guy named Graham caught fire recently at one of those opening-night after-parties.  "Alas," many DC theaterfolk will say when they finish reading this sentence, "Graham was his first name."

It went like this: Tboy's fighting his way through the lobby on the way out of the DCJCC, where the Synetic/Theater J co-production of The Dybbuk has just opened.  The place is mobbed with people taking advantage of the free noshes.  Tboy finds Dr. H making chitchat with Randy Richter and his brother, and stops to make nice for a minute before making an escape. Then:

Tboy: Is something burning?

Guy behind Tboy: No, somebody's burning.

Sure enough, Tboy turns around to discover that the guy with the crutches who's just leaned himself up against the wall next to the bar has inadvertently leaned himself up against one of those charming tea lights that're adding so much to the ambiance there in the 16th Street Lobby. And his T-shirt has in fact caught fire.

Quick fire-suppression action, no harm (except for the giant black-edged holes in the back of Graham's T-shirt). Much self-deprecating chuckling.

Comments

[dcepticon]

I and another once put out a girls hair at Playbill one night.
I think my exact words were, "something smells like buring hair!" and in fact her hair was on fire.
Luckily I remembered that in Bill Clinton's first year in office a little girl had gotten her hair set on fire by some holiday candles and he used his hands to pat them out.
God he was a role model.
Good times good times.

[personman]

There's a story of a production of Glass Menagerie at Catholic(?) a while back where, in the final moments, Laura's hair caught fire in her birthday candles. I believe the improvised final line that night was "Blow our your hair, Laura."

[personman]

God, don't you hate it when you misspell a punchline? Guess that's what the preview button is for.

That should read:

"Blow out your hair, Laura."