Just in case you think, heading into Act II, that this is going to be one of those boy-meets-boy, boy-loses-boy, boy-gets-boy-back stories . . . the playwright must now point out the comedy of your error. Believe me, he had those notions at the start. He thought all he had to do was send love out into the universe and it would come back to him in the form of a perfect guy. A match. A soul mate. Remember the lesson Lynda gave him early on about halves? In the years since, he’s forgotten it. It’s not enough for him to be gay. He has to have a boyfriend. A you-are-my-everything boyfriend.
This is the dangerous thing about musicals. Most of them assume that as soon as you find your voice, you’ll use it to sing to someone else. That way, you can get your enchanted evening, your seasons of love, your tale as old as time, your Camembert, your edelweiss.
The thing is, in musicals there’s not a whole lot of looking (except in the case of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella.) In musicals, things happen that throw you into love, whether it’s gang warfare on the West Side, or a Nazi invasion, or needing a neighbor to light your candle.
Real life doesn’t provide quite so many openings. No, in real life, you’ve got to work a little harder to get to love.
I was willing to do the work. I was willing to look high and low for the perfect harmony.
I looked everywhere. I dated a lot of boys.
And what did I get out of it?
I got . . .
The Parade of Ex-boyfriends.
Yes, this second act has a pretty strange structure (although maybe not as strange as the second act of Follies, right?). Here we’re going to trace my progression as a person through my progression of breakups, because honestly at the time I couldn’t tell the difference between the two. We’re going to lose the Age button now and just go with the high school years as one entity. Because I’m sure that’s going to be how they’ll feel when they’re over. Assuming they ever end.
The next number calls for nineteen parts (including Tiny). I know that’s a lot to ask of any production. So feel free to double- or triple-cast. Also feel free to give every ex a number somewhere on his costume, like this is the deli counter from dating hell. Whatever works. And, duh, the boyfriends can be played by girls dressed as boys. But you knew that already, I’m sure.
The key for the actor playing Tiny is to know this: I wanted it. I really, really wanted it. Keep that in mind at all times, even when I’m being foolish.
When the curtain rises, we see a swing set on the stage. There is a brief overture as Tiny swings on his own. Then the music stops for his opening monologue.
TINY:
Love is the most common miracle. Love is always a miracle, everywhere, every time. But for us, it’s a little different. I don’t want to say it’s more miraculous—it is, though. Our miracle is different because some people say it’s impossible. But let me tell you—it’s possible. Very possible.
Tiny leaps off the swing and lands in what seems to be a heap.
TINY:
I fall and I fall and I fall and I fall and I fall. . . .
The swing set is wheeled off, and the EX-BOYFRIENDS march onstage to the start of their song.
[“PARADE OF EX-BOYFRIENDS”]
CHORUS OF EX-BOYFRIENDS:
We are the parade of ex-boyfriends!
EX-BOYFRIEND #1:
You’re too clingy.
EX-BOYFRIEND #2:
You’re too sing-y.
EX-BOYFRIEND #3:
You’re so massive.
EX-BOYFRIEND #4:
I’m just too passive.
EX-BOYFRIEND #5:
I’d rather be friends.
EX-BOYFRIEND #6:
I don’t date tight ends.
EX-BOYFRIEND #7:
I found another guy.
EX-BOYFRIEND #8:
I don’t have to tell you why.
EX-BOYFRIEND #9:
I don’t feel the spark.
EX-BOYFRIEND #10:
It was only just a lark.
EX-BOYFRIEND #11:
You mean you won’t put out?
EX-BOYFRIEND #12:
I can’t conquer my doubt.
EX-BOYFRIEND #13:
I have other things to do.
EX-BOYFRIEND #14:
I have other guys to screw.
EX-BOYFRIEND #15:
Our love has all been in your head.
EX-BOYFRIEND #16:
I’m worried that you’ll break my bed.
EX-BOYFRIEND #17:
I think I’ll just stay home and read.
EX-BOYFRIEND #18:
I think you’re in love with my need.
CHORUS OF EX-BOYFRIENDS:
Tiny Cooper, have no doubt:
You’re the one we can live without.
TINY (in a Sondheimian frenzy):
What’d I do?
What’d I say?
Why did these boys
all go away?
I tried hard to be
who they’d want me to be
though most of the time
I couldn’t help being me.
Was I too loud?
Too quiet?
Why work on the package
when there’s no one to buy it?
Am I not enough of a gay?
Not enough of a guy?
My love life’s a train wreck
so I might as well fly. . . .
CHORUS OF EX-BOYFRIENDS:
Parade!
Of the ex-boyfriends!
Any relationship that starts
inevitably ends!
EX-BOYFRIEND #1:
You wanted me too much.
EX-BOYFRIEND #2:
I can’t be your emotional crutch.
EX-BOYFRIEND #3:
Just look at your size!
EX-BOYFRIEND #4:
You don’t make my hormones rise.
EX-BOYFRIEND #5:
I’ll see you around school.
EX-BOYFRIEND #6:
I hope that we’re cool.
EX-BOYFRIEND #7:
I hope I’m not hurting you.
EX-BOYFRIEND #8:
I’m happily deserting you.
EX-BOYFRIEND #9:
You’re drowning me in texts.
EX-BOYFRIEND #10:
I can’t imagine us having sex.
EX-BOYFRIEND #11:
I guess I’m more of a slut.
EX-BOYFRIEND #12:
I need someone with a nicer butt.
EX-BOYFRIEND #13:
I never really thought it would work.
EX-BOYFRIEND #14:
Don’t make it sound like I’m the jerk.
EX-BOYFRIEND #15:
You’ll never, ever complete me.
EX-BOYFRIEND #16:
I don’t mind if you want to delete me.
EX-BOYFRIEND #17:
I hate it when you hold my hand.
EX-BOYFRIEND #18:
I don’t think you’ll ever truly understand.
CHORUS AND TINY:
The only way to learn
how to make something last
is to be yanked from your future
to reckon with the past.
Parade of ex-boyfriends
you thought you once knew.
Parade of ex-boyfriends,
who are all through with you.
CHORUS:
Your love life’s a train wreck—
TINY:
—so I might as well fly.
CHORUS:
But you must hear our stories—
TINY:
—before I can try.
CHORUS:
Love is not easy.
TINY:
No matter how hard you pretend.
CHORUS:
Any relationship that starts—
TINY:
—inevitably ends.
CHORUS (spoken):
Except.
TINY:
Except?
CHORUS (resumes singing):
Except the one that transcends.
TINY:
Yes, the one that transcends.
Please send the one that transcends!