Traveling across the US with a group of talented actors was one of the best jobs I ever had. In between shows we lingered backstage swapping stories from our younger days. One of the funniest stories related to us came from one of the girls; it concerned her entering puberty.

She had just finished her shower and was in the process of toweling off when she noticed hair sprouting on nether regions, in a state of panic she sought out her Mom for advice. Her Mom managed to calm her down and explain that this was quite normal and signaled that she was growing up.

The panic passed. While she was not happy with this manifestation of the passing of her childhood she accepted it.

She recalled that it was about a week later that she and her parents were gathered in front of the TV for a relaxing evening, she was in her usual spot on the floor in front of the couch. It was during a commercial break that her Dad leaned down and addressed her in a matter-of-fact voice.

"So mommy tells me you have hair on your cookie."

According to her narration she turned one hundred shades of red. She then bolted from the room with a look of shame and embarrassment stamped on her pretty face amid a cry of anguish. She never saw her Mom smack her Dad across the face for being such a jerk.

We all laughed so hard that we choked. It was probably a story that she should not have shared with us. From that day on and when in private her nickname among the crew was "Cookie."

Now at the beginning of the season we decided to share rooms as would save money. We would rotate roommates each trip until we grew comfortable with each other. "Cookie" and I wound up as permanent roommates as we had a lot of the same habits.

We both smoked and stayed up late watching TV. There were no romantic attractions; we were just roomies. Well on one trip we headed to our hotel first before heading to the venue and setting up for the performance. As I was unpacking I discovered I had forgotten to pack my bathrobe and was pretty vocal about my stupidity.

My roomie told me to chill out and that I could borrow her large white terrycloth one. I had forgotten about it as I had borrowed it once before. It was large, soft and warm making it the perfect lounging robe. Later over dinner we discussed our evening plans. Most of the crew were heading out to check out the local clubs. I decided to stay in and watch a movie.

"My robe is hanging in the closet, help yourself," my roomie stated.

"Thanks. I like that robe."

"Now if you want to wear anything else of mine, we are going to have a problem," she responded.

The laughter was deafening and was accompanied with choking and liquid being sprayed from various mouth and noses.

So from that day on as we were dressing for a performance, one or two the others would approach and ask me what I had on under my tux. This joke along with the "Cookie" nickname went on for the length of our employment.