After the meeting, I raced to the cue cards room and ran into the writer Benji, who said, “That’s a bummer Nigel cut The Danny Horst Rule. I thought it was solid.”
Even if I’d wanted to, there wasn’t time to clarify; we both needed to check new cue cards. I simply said, “I know.” There were ten minutes left to air, and I could hear the house band playing on Home Base, and the chatter of the audience members eagerly waiting for the show. Usually, Danny took the stage for a couple minutes before air to warm up the audience, but I heard Bailey, who also had gotten their start as a stand-up, doing it instead. Then Bailey left the stage and the cast member Jay bounded out, with Bianca, Lynette, and Grace taking their places behind him. Though I couldn’t see Home Base, I knew because this was how it always happened that Jay was wearing a three-piece, seventies-style pale blue suit, and the women were wearing matching short silver halter top dresses with tall white boots. They all belted out “We Are Family,” and the audience went nuts.
As I walked toward the spot under the balcony where I usually watched the live show, a no-man’s-land quite separate from Nigel’s cave, and without rosé, I passed Viv, who was about to play Comey’s book editor in the cold open. In the seconds before a cast member went on, when they were surrounded by a makeup artist, a hair stylist, and someone from wardrobe all making last adjustments, the clusters always reminded me of when the mice and birds in the original Cinderella movie dressed her for the ball. I didn’t want to get in the way, or to call out Dr. Theo’s name, so when Viv’s eyes met mine, I merely held up my right hand, first with the thumb up, then with the thumb down, and raised my eyebrows. She nodded and held up her own thumb. I wasn’t sure whether I’d been asking if Dr. Theo was there or if they’d spoken, but, either way, the confirmation seemed promising. “Awesome,” I said, and kept walking to take my place next to two other writers, Patrick and Jenna. Unless things went awry during the show—if another sketch went way over and I was told by a producer I needed to make more cuts—this was where I’d stay. Even on nights when none of my sketches were in the lineup, it was thrilling to be in the studio seeing the cast members perform and knowing the sketches were appearing on television screens all over the country. Like Noah and millions of other people, I too had once been a kid who lived far from New York and watched TNO and was electrified.