The VPLs

I was on an opening night high.  The audience loved the show, and I was hearing praise from everyone about what a great job I'd done portraying 70-year old Aunt Ruth in Marvin's Room.  

It was hard to believe that someone as young and immature vibrant as myself could be transformed into crippled old Aunt Ruth. 

My head was growing exponentially with ever complement.

I was soaking them in.  More, more... tell me more. 

Maybe I will quit my day job and move to Hollywood.  Because, clearly, I am the next Meryl Streep. 

Then Jim told me more.  

He said, "You know what I liked best about your performance?"  I started anticipating his response.  The way I embodied Ruth's spirit?  My subtle nuances in the kitchen scene?  The way I emoted Ruth's love of life? 

"What?" I asked, humbly.

"Your VPLs."

"Excuse me?"  I said. 

"Your VPLs," Jim repeated, chuckling to himself.

I had no idea what he was talking about.  Very pretty legs?  Very perky lips? 

I was afraid to ask.  "Um, what is a VPL?"

"Your Visual Panty Lines!" Jim said.  "When you bent over and walked across the stage it was hysterical!"

Tiffany, our costumer joined in, "I know!  I loved it!  What a great idea to wear granny panties!  I almost peed my pants!" 

Except those were my granny panties and they were not supposed to be part of the damn costume.

OMG.  Everyone in the audience saw my panty lines.

I tried to play it cool, but my beet red face, which I pointed directly into my glass of beer, was not helping my cause.

Then I remembered what a great actor I was and, in my best Merryl Streep voice I proclaimed,

"I thought it would add to my credibility to my role."