Pants-Optional Bach Festival

I suppose it all started with the shoes.  The black shoes that I normally wear with my tuxedo had two broken laces, and I didn’t have time to get to a store for new ones.  I did have my black Italian leather dress boots that I often wear for auditioning or performing, but they didn’t look very tux-like.  Luckily, as I recalled from the previous day’s rehearsal, I would be singing in front of a podium for the concert, so who cared what my shoes looked like, right?  I could wear flip-flops and nobody would notice.

When I got to the dress rehearsal, in my jeans and sneakers, I confirmed the fact that no one would ever see my feet during the concert, and I set my mind at ease.  After the rehearsal, as I wandered off to eat, change, and prepare for the concert, the bass soloist mentioned to me that he did not have proper tux shoes, but nobody would be able to see his feet, so it was fine.  I laughed and told him that we were in the same boat because I was wearing non-traditional footwear as well.

Over the course of getting ready for the event, we furthered the joke by suggesting that, since no one could see our legs either, there was really no reason to wear pants for the performance.  We suggested this to one of the violinists, but she reminded us that there was a chance we would have to come forward for bows, and so it became clear that we would probably need break-away stripper pants for the bows that we could rip off for our Bach solos.  We all had a good laugh, and I went forward assuming that I would be wearing a full set of normal pants for the concert.  But that was not quite true.

I don’t know when it happened, or how.  I didn’t hear any tell-tale fabric tearing sounds, nor did I feel any sort of pull on my pants, but just before we were about to walk onto the stage I casually scratched my butt, which was when I noticed that the back of my pants had somehow split open.  There was a big hole in the seat of my pants, and unfortunately I was not wearing tux-colored underwear.  And did I mention that I was about to walk on stage?  Suddenly it seemed like the pants-optional concert was not so far-fetched anymore.

Now, the podium covered me from the audience, and the conductor, and the director of the festival who had hired me, but it did not cover my backside from the collegiate choir and the other soloists seated directly to the rear of the podium.  My jacket kind of covered me from behind, and if I leaned back at an awkward angle, I was pretty sure no one would notice anything weird about me.  And the podium was really more of a pulpit, with sides to it.  This meant I could get in there and point my butt out to the side and against the wood, with no one the wiser.  Problem solved.

I’m sure I felt far more conspicuous than I looked.  I got through the concert with my pants and part of my dignity intact, and no one said anything about me looking weird or wearing bright blue X-Men boxer shorts, although perhaps they were just being polite.  The only comments I got were compliments on my singing, and I went home feeling satisfied and good.  But this whole problem could have been avoided if they had just made the whole Bach festival pants-optional in the first place.  So…something to think about for next year guys.