I've been finished with my commitment to the "Radio City Christmas Spectacular" for five days and I am so hungry. Golly, did they feed us!
Thanksgiving weekend alone, we put on 11 shows (and untold poundage) in three days. We ate every three hours, following the Nativity finale. That's eight catered feasts in three days -- plus, snacks whenever we pleased.
To fit them all in, I had to schedule times to belch.
"I can erupt at 2:57, Intermission, which means I can Coca-Cola now and, maybe, THESE BROWNIES!... Nom. Nom. Nom. Nom. Nom...."
The crew always ate with the cast. Rockettes in their robes AND gravy!
For that I gave thanks.
Indeed, the Rockettes wore bathrobes to the buffets, before changing back into their work clothes. I simply continued to wear the terrycloth kimono while doing my job, strutting up through the Fox Theatre balcony crowds to the projection room.
Breezy! And more time for scarfing!
Santa dined in his red, fur-trimmed Slanket, which had to be altered after each slurp fest, while the Ensemble was seen in fleece Snuggies, which kept them warm and the sheep out of the commissary.
Say, for what it's worth, those Rockettes can pack away the food. I was astounded to see the girls' plates piled high with desserts galore. Of course, that's what abundant exercise can allow -- and exactly how I keep my figure, through vigorous exercise. I'm on The Burp Work-Out.
I stretched on a sofa after one humongous meal, stuffed, fulfilled, and happy, until some wag pointed at my tummy and asked if I were understudying the camels.
