Waiting for Godot

Hi, I’m Chris Henley

Or as the people at the Orpheus like to call me

Satan’s Asshole

They’ve called me that

For years

Even the ones that never actually met me

Because Beau, the former Artistic Director

Didn’t like me

And because Beau’s actors

Were more like those Mormon cult compound dwellers

You see on tv

When you work at the Orpheus Theater

You don’t just work at the Orpheus Theater

You adopt it as a religion

And there shall be no other theaters

Certainly not mine

The Henley Theater

Yes, I named it after myself

Or, truthfully

After my Dad

It’s really called the Joseph Henley Theater

And yes, I’m very proud of it

Beau tried shutting us down for years

Because we were always his biggest competition

Not at first

At first we were just a little fly

Buzzing in his ear

He wasn’t scared of us

He just thought we were annoying

Then in the spring of 1980

He mounted this turkey of a production

I forget what it was

But I think it was one of those Restoration comedies

That only British racists find funny

While that was going on

I quietly directed

One of the best productions of Waiting for Godot

That anybody in this little rathole of a town

Had ever seen

The nice thing about directing a show like Waiting for Godot

Is that people always forget how good of a show it is

As long as you get the hell out of its way

You’ll be fine

And that’s what I did

Audiences loved it

Critics went wild

One wrote—‘The Orpheus Theater better watch its back’

I saved and framed that one

And put it next to my bed

That’s when Beau got vicious

He’d already stolen my actors

Called the Health Department every time I found a new space

And lined his shows up to directly conflict with mine

But that was all just child’s play

Compared to what he was prepared to do

For the next two years

Until he mercifully left town in 1982

By the way, did you hear why he left?

Ohhh, well I’ll let someone else tell you that story

It’s a good one, trust me

But I’ll leave you with this

As far as the Orpheus goes, I can’t really say much

Because I never actually acted there

And after they rejected me a few times

I stopped going to see shows there altogether

Even so, I can say with the utmost confidence

That nothing done there after the first few years

Was any good

The place became sterile, corrupt, and uninteresting

Irrelevant

Maybe some of the stuff my theater did was messy

But art is supposed to be messy

It’s not just supposed to be something the blue hairs take in

After brunch and before their early evening nap

It’s supposed to—

Oh what the hell do you care

What art is supposed to be

You paid money to hear all the gossip

About that theatrical monstrosity

You really want to hear about the Orpheus’

Dirty little secrets?

Just buy a ticket to one of its shows

They put all their worse stuff

Right up there

Onstage