Tiny is now alone onstage. The parade has passed him by. But now it’s going to return, slower this time, so he can see what’s happened.

We are going back to the start of his dating life here—the first date.

As we approach the next song, he should look eager and excited. He’s so naïve that he doesn’t really feel too nervous—he actually thinks dating is going to be easy, now that he knows who he is. Try to capture that. Try to capture what it’s like to have never squeezed yourself into the shape of someone else’s expectations. Try to capture what it’s like not to be thinking in terms of “types.” Try to capture what’s it like to have no exes, to have never failed. Try, if you can, to show that in the way Tiny is getting ready for tonight.

A mirror appears, and we see him comb his hair, maybe put on a kickass jacket. He’s pulling out all the stops for this first date. Once he’s judged himself lovable, he turns to the audience and begins his tale.

TINY:

My first date ever was with Brad Langley, who was a whole year older than me—which at the time meant ninth grade. Word of my outstanding outness had spread through the school like pink wildfire. Brad was bedazzled by the flames and traced them back to their source: yours truly.

BRAD appears onstage. He is dressed with a kickassness similar to Tiny’s.

It really doesn’t matter, but he is absolutely adorable.

BRAD (a little shy):

Hi. Are you Tiny?

TINY

(not getting why this boy is approaching him):

Do I look Tiny?

BRAD:

You look about as tiny as Idina Menzel’s voice.

Now Brad has Tiny’s attention.

TINY:

So if I tell you I appreciate that reference . . .

BRAD:

. . . then I’ll know I’m talking to the right guy. Most people here don’t know their Merman from their Martin.

TINY:

Heathens.

BRAD:

I know.

TINY (to audience):

Within minutes of our first conversation, we established all the things we had in common. And we kept having the same conversation for days, because we were enjoying it so much. If we started by talking about musicals, soon we were talking about everything.

The following is sung at first as a classic call-and-response—like “Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better” only they’re doing the opposite of disagreeing. This is about what it’s like to find a kindred spirit, and what it’s like to know you’ve found that kindred spirit by piecing together all the pop culture references you love. We need to see Tiny and Brad getting more and more excited as this part of the song plays out.

[“I LIKE”]

TINY:

I like seeing Draco in Harry’s arms.

BRAD (EX-BOYFRIEND #1):

I like succumbing to the Weasley boys’ charms.

TINY:

I like singing in the shower.

BRAD:

I like singing at any hour.

TINY:

I like daydreaming about Cumberbatch.

BRAD:

I like keeping photos of him in my Sherlock stash.

TINY:

I like Phantom of the Opera—

BRAD:

—and the music of the night.

TINY:

I like “Bali Ha’i”—

BRAD:

—and when Emile sees the light.

TINY:

I like Idina in green—

BRAD:

And Judy on yellow.

TINY:

I like Patti at don’t cry—

BRAD:

—and Barbra at hello!

TINY:

I like brown-paper packages—

BRAD:

—tied up in string!

I like the trolley bell—

TINY:

—that goes ding ding ding!

TINY AND BRAD

(spoken, completely bowled over by the serendipity of their synchronicity):

Wow . . .

Tiny pauses to make an observation to the audience.

TINY:

Of course, once we saw we had all this in common, we got more personal. Because that’s how it goes, right? You make enough mirror connections and you feel safe to fall below the surface, to get to the deeper truths you don’t think are visible to the naked eye.

The song resumes.

TINY:

I like that my parents didn’t kick me out of the

house.

BRAD:

I like that my stepfather isn’t a louse.

TINY:

I like that I don’t have to pretend.

BRAD:

I like that I don’t think my life will end.

TINY:

I like that I don’t have to worry about flirting.

BRAD:

I like that my soul is no longer hurting.

Tiny addresses the audience again. Brad remains paused in the conversation, oblivious.

TINY:

We kept talking and talking. And we didn’t do anything else. I wanted to kiss him, to hold him, to be his boyfriend. But I had no idea what he wanted. This was the only thing we didn’t talk about—the subject of us.

As we started a second month without clarifying the whole are-we-dating-and-are-we-going-to-kiss? thing, I found myself getting closer and closer to the edge of bringing it up.

The song resumes.

TINY:

I like to stare for hours at Cate Blanchett.

BRAD:

I like to watch as much Sandra Bullock as I

can get.

TINY:

I like to watch reruns of Buffy when I’m

feeling huffy.

BRAD:

I like to turn on Doctor Who when I’m

feeling blue.

TINY:

I like salted caramel ice cream.

BRAD: