Needless to say, Tuesday night Terri and I were ensconced in front of the tv in time for the Letterman Show. David’s first guest was a pretty young pop singer in a very short skirt who performed her latest hit and then sat down on the couch for some banter with the host. Then, after a commercial break, David introduced the “man everyone in New York is talking about, the City’s latest hero: Superman!”
The audience cheered as Alex came on, waving to the crowd, then shaking hands with David and the pop star. I found myself holding my breath, hoping Alex wouldn’t do anything to make himself appear ridiculous, but I needn’t have worried. Despite his hero-worship for Letterman, Alex proved relaxed and at ease in conversation. He told the story about why he began wearing the suit, and then went on to recount his confrontation with the biker in the bar. That story got an appreciative response from the audience. In response to several leading questions from David, Alex deftly made self-deprecating answers that brought laughter and a round of applause. I could tell that even Letterman was impressed.
The pop star, on the other hand, couldn’t resist rubbing Alex’s biceps and making suggestive comments about his being the “man of steel.” “Show us your super strength,” she persisted, even after Alex demurred. But after she begged for the third time, he winked at Letterman, then stood up, bent over and grabbed the shrieking young woman under her arms, easily whirling her around in a large circle and, in the process, revealing that she was wearing a thong. When he deftly deposited her back on the couch, she gasped out, “Oh my god, that was awesome!!” and the audience burst into more laughter and applause.
Never one to miss a cue, Letterman shouted, “Ladies and gentlemen: Superman!” and the applause turned into an ovation. Alex turned and bowed to the singer, shook hands again with Letterman, and left the stage, waving as the audience continued to applaud.
Terri turned to me in amazement. “What a performance! Are you sure he’s never been on tv before?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, but I too was blown away with how well Alex’s appearance had gone. I was beginning to be convinced the suit really was magic.
The next day at work I checked some of the blogs from the overnight critics and saw that Alex’s appearance had drawn a raft of favorable comments. I tried to call him to congratulate him, but every time his line was busy, so I left him a voice mail.
It wasn’t until that afternoon that he called back. “I’m sorry not to get back to you sooner, Elle,” he said, “but my phone has been ringing off the hook all day. And listen to this: I had a call from the William Morris Agency. They want to represent me — they think I have show business potential!”
“Really? That’s incredible, Alex,” I said. “What did you tell them?”
“Well, I told them I wanted to think about it. It would mean I’d have to quit my job here. But the guy said he thought they could book me into a lot of shows and speaking engagements, and that could mean a lot of money. He even hinted that they might be able to work out something with Hollywood for a film deal!”