Holy f’in intoxication, Vamp Fans, did your favorite yella playwright have a kickass weekend!
Three days past the Vampire Cowboys Sixth Season's Launch Party, I’m still reeling from the tornado of awesomeness that had me spinning this past Saturday.
After an entire evening of booze, more booze, and stumbling around all night with Lady Drunk partying up inside my head, I’ve come out on the other side a very changed man.
“How changed?” you might ask.
Well, I’ll give it to ya in the form of a multiple choice question.
This past weekend was pure badass because:
A) The Battle Ranch is now open
B) My 31st Birthday was on Sunday
C) I proposed to Abby
D) All of the Above.
That’s right, kiddies. If you chose “D”, then slap a smiley face onto your computer screen cause you just scored yourself an “A”.
Fictional Female Beyondabsurdity fans: WHAT? YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED? SAY IT AIN’T SO! PLEASE, GOD, SAY IT AIN’T SO! (With the accompanying sound of women everywhere hurling themselves off of buildings)
Fictional Abby Marcus response: Hey stop . . . if you girls really want him, I’m completely willing to trade him in for, say, a new iphone?
Fictional Female: Hehe. We were just kidding. Get real. There’s no financial upward mobility in dating a playwright.
Fictional Abby: No argument here.
Me: Grrrr.
I had just picked up the ring the week prior during my visit home to Arkansas. Being a NYC playwright that earns less money than your averaged cracked-out hobo (The one on my corner actually sports better kicks than I do. No shit), I decided that it was perhaps a smarter move to go for some bling with historical weight over economic shine. So instead of Tiffany’s, I opted for a Nguyen ring that’s been part of a 32 year old marriage that’s still going strong.
When I asked my mom if I could have one of her diamonds, she was more than happy to oblige. Actually, a bit too happy.
“Let me ask Abby for you!”
“What, mom? No.”
“You going to mess it up. You talk too much. Maybe you scare her away with long talking and boring stories.”
“I’m not going to scare her away.”
“You scared away Alison.”
“Who the hell is Alison?”
“Your first girlfriend.”
“From Kindergarten?”
“Yes. She looked like she was going to go places.”
“She ate paste.”
“That takes gumption.”
“She puked on me during our P.E. class.”
“That takes character.”
“Mom -”
“Just let me help you.”
“You are! Notice the ring!”
“Let me just talk to Abby. Find out what she's thinking.”
“No, mom, that’d be weird.”
“Weird? What weird? In home country, you would not even get to meet wife until day you marry. Father and Mother would do all work. We’d trade you like two bags of rice at market. That is traditional way. That is not weird.”
“Traditional way? What are you talking about? You didn’t have an arrange marriage in 'the home country'. You and Dad met here.”
“I meant if you were in home country a long time ago. With different parents.”
“Mom, no. It’s going to be okay. I'm gonna ask her myself, alright? Like a normal human being.”
“I just wanting to make sure you not going to get heart broken.”
“I won’t, Mom. I promise. Abby’s the one.”
As Saturday approached, my nerves begin to go out of control. With a ring in hand, the reality that I was going to lay down the big ask starts to sink in deep. And instead of the confident Qui that was able to calm down his mother a week before, I revert to the indecisive little kid version of me who could never figure out if he’d rather watch Smurfs or Snorks on Saturday mornings.
With the party now in full effect, Robert pulls me aside for a gut-check. “Dude, it’s almost time. You ready for this, Nguyen?”
“Um, actually, I was thinking maybe postponing this until her birthday.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, I was thinking if I give her the ring now, then in two weeks when it’s her birthday, what the fuck am I gonna do? I can’t follow up an engagement ring with a paper shredder.”
“Dude, I don’t think the two are interconnected.”
“I beg to differ. She could look at my lame ass present and go 'Whoa, I gave him my hand in marriage for his big day and for mine I get . . . a Staples gift certificate? Fuck this, I'm outta here' See, how wrong this could go?”
“Maybe you shouldn't be getting her office supplies for presents in the first place, dude. Just sayin'.”
“That's not the point.”
“What is?”
“That I'm not going to be able to top this. Plus I’m sorta drunk right now. What if I fuck up and do something stupid. Like instead of asking her to be my bride, I puke on her.”
“Dude, that’s not gonna happen.”
“It might.”
“Yo, man, stop. You're just freaking out. You’re Qui and Abby. The Abby-chu and Quizzle. It’s gonna be great.”
“I just want this shit to be perfect, man.”
“Nothing’s ever perfect.”
“I know, but -”
“Seriously, stop. Look, man, you two are great together. It's gonna be awesome. Don't worry about it being perfect and shit, man. That's a waste. If we always waited for the perfect opportunity to do everything, we’d never end up accomplishing anything. Hell, there’d be no Vampire Cowboys with that kind of mentality. Most times it just takes brash courage and a shit load of tenacity to get what we want. Or have you forgotten?”
“No. I haven’t.”
“Then what's the big?”
“Nothing, I guess.”
“So let’s try this again, Mister Nguyen. Are you ready for this?”
“No. But fuck it. I’m gonna do it anyways.”
“That’s what I'm talking about.”
As I looked over the crowd assembled at the Battle Ranch, it was a house filled with so many of the people that has made up my life here in NYC. Along with all our buddies in Vampire Cowboys, there were friends from Ma-Yi, Nosedive, LAByrinth, The Brick, Partial Comfort, Youngblood, and almost every other theatre company I’ve ever worked with scattered throughout the studio. As Robert and I approached the mike stand to welcome everyone to VC’s new home, I knew it was time. I wanted all my friends to be part of the most important question I’d ever ask.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” I greet the crowd. “It’s obviously a very big deal for us to be opening this space. It’s a dream come true.”
The crowd applauds.
“But none of this would be possible without Vampire Cowboy’s Managing Director, Abby Marcus, who’d I like to join me right now onstage.”
All eyes turn to her. She’s is in the corner of the room working the lightboard.
“Come on up, baby,” I coax her.
She looks at me and shakes her head no.
“It’s okay. Just come here.”
“Qui, just finish your intro!” she pleads.
“No. Come here. Please.” I give her that look that lets her know that the show is gonna stay on pause unless she moves. And because she’s a consummate professional, she gives the crowd what they want.
“Fine. Okay.” Abby reluctantly complies. She exudes a fake smile as she steps up beside me.
“As you all know, Abby’s an amazing producer. She’s the backbone of this company - the one who’s made all of this possible. She’s an amazing professional who’s turned this dream Robert and I had five years ago into a reality. For that, I just want to take this opportunity to thank her.”
Everyone claps for my lady. She blushes.
“Can I go now?” she whispers.
“Not yet,” I indicate. “Though you may know her as our producer, what you may not know about Abby is she’s also my girlfriend. We've been together for almost four years now and throughout all that time, she’s been my partner, my bestfriend, and my greatest supporter. She has always stood beside me as I pursued this life as a writer. And for that, I owe her everything.”
The crowd begins to sense what’s about to happen. The house goes completely silent.
“At midnight tonight, it also happens to be my 31st Birthday. And for this momentous occasion, there isn’t anything I want more in this world than to have Abby Marcus be my wife. I love her with every single cell of my body and want to spend the rest of my life alongside her. So with that said . . .”
I turn to Abby, leaving the mike behind. Her face is completely shell-shocked. She giggles and shakes her head knowing what words are going to spit out of my mouth next. I drop down to one knee and pull out the red velvet box containing my mother’s ring. And with a whole room of our friends bearing witness, I simply ask . . .
“Abby Marcus, will you marry me?”
She grabs me. Kisses me hard. And the crowd goes fucking apeshit.
During all the applause and cheers, my darling bride-to-be leans over and whispers into my ear “I’m going to kill you.”
I smile. We kiss some more. It's a good night.
So maybe choosing to propose in a gigantic public display of romanticism wasn’t the perfect call. But, as Robert said, who cares about perfection? Sometimes it's better to just do it loud than worrying about doing it right.
Sides, Abby's gonna marry me. What more could I ask for?
For Season 07-08, Vampire Cowboys launches its newest adventure in awesomeness, THE SATURDAY NIGHT SALOON, a semi-monthly party at THE BATTLE RANCH featuring brand new genre-bending serialized plays by NYC's hottest indie theatre artists. And the best part, it's all FREE!
