Dresser
A fictional short-short story
I had tried to find a hobby but nothing lasted — dancing, crafting, even trying to learn magic tricks. So, I spend most evenings and weekends watching the tube or playing a peaceful video game like A Short Hike.
That evening, my mother called, frantic. Was she sick? After all, she is 86. No. She’s a volunteer performer in something called Golden Girls’ Gaieties, in which women beyond a certain age dress up in Vegas-style costumes complete with boas and sky-high plumed hats and preen around to pump-it up music that hides their limited dancing and bodies that weren’t what they used to be.
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My mom pleaded, “We have a performance tonight and our dresser got sick.” A dresser helps the performers — zipping up and down, getting arthritic arms into sleeves, finding the missing glove — “I can’t go on with just one glove!” My mom begged, “Might you fill in, just for tonight?!”
Well, it was totally fun. I’d never been backstage before, and seeing those “golden girls” with the nervousness of a teen on her first date? Touching. I assumed that many of the golden girls had not such golden lives and were doing Golden Girls’ Gaieties as an escape, a balm. So I was really rooting for them: smiling at them, thumbs up, telling them they were beautiful, and in a way they were, even if overweight in sequined bathing suits with a tutu around their waists.
I became the understudy dresser and when the regular dresser did get sick, real sick as in cancer, I became the dresser. When the director asked me if I might want to be a Golden Girl, I found myself saying, “I’m flattered but I need to think about it.” I think I’ve found my hobby.
I read this aloud on YouTube.
Marty Nemko is a career and personal coach who, a few days ago, was the piano accompanist at Golden Follies. His is the author of 36 books including Light: short-short stories on life’s brighter side. You can reach him at mnemko@gmail.com
