Frontier Psychiatrist mentioned something about Britishers pronouncing Milan as to rhyme with "villain" in a play he'd seen, which made me recollect a date I had years ago.
I remember a conversation, directing me to his apartment.
"It's on Milan Street," he told me.
"Where's that?" I asked. It didn't ring a bell.
"You know, uptown. M. I. L. A. N." he repeated in his thick Southern accent.
"Oh, you mean Milan?" I pronounced it properly, you know, the way Elsa Klensch did on Style.
"No, silly. It's Milan...like MY-lan," "That's how it's said in New Orleans."
Being from the suburbs, and never having heard it actually pronounced, I was mortified.
Of course, he was right (even if he was from Georgia).
That said, I've still hung on to my Elsa Klensch pronunciation. I like it. I might even pick up the alleged British pronunciation, just to further irritate the locals and wannabe locals.
Anyway, more about this boy.
I walked into his apartment, the slave quarters of one of the mansions uptown, beautifully renovated. On the walls were posters of Broadway productions. More than a few were from "The Phantom of the Opera."
Apparently, he had just broken up with the lead actor of a travelling tour of "The Phantom of the Opera." I heard an inordinate amount about that. Of course, I was a poor audience for this, since I'm one of those rare gays practically missing the Broadway gene. I'd never even seen a musical at that point.
He showed me his scrapbooks. I feigned interest.
The only other "art" on the walls was this:
And that was when I knew it wouldn't work out.
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