"Even then, we sold about 500 of our 540 seats," said Henkin, 33, an autism specialist for Baltimore County.
Every available seat already has been snapped up for the Feb. 11 show on family secrets. That's remarkable, considering the series is held on Monday nights.
Moreover, the series attracts an unusually diverse audience.
FOR THE RECORD - An article in Sunday's Arts & Life Today section about The Stoop Storytelling Series misquoted one of the speakers. Karen Weeks spoke about her tumultuous relationship with a ring she had picked up at a Stoop show. She was not referring to her personal relationships.
THE SUN REGRETS THE ERROR
Seniors sit arm to arm with the multiple-piercings crowd.
Credit for the series' success belongs to Wexler and Henkin. Henkin, slender and delicate with straight, blond hair, is relaxed and zany. The curvaceous Wexler, with a mop of red curls, is an organizational fanatic. When they get together, the two play off one another like a seasoned comedy duo.
Wexler first came up with the idea for the Stoop while searching for a creative outlet after publishing a nonfiction book in 2003.
"After my book came out, I was looking for an activity that involved stories but was less solitary than writing," Wexler says.
"Then I attended the Porchlight in San Francisco and decided to do something similar here. With her improvisation skills, I knew that Jess would be the perfect partner."
Given the Stoop's popularity, it's tempting to consider expanding the series, but that turns out to be complicated.
A larger theater would sacrifice the intimacy crucial to the series' success. Plus, much of the Stoop's charm is that it is fleeting. It's important for Wexler and Henkin that the storytellers not memorize their tales and not read from scripts. There is just one rehearsal.
"Unfortunately, you can't do each program more than once," Magruder says. "If you told the same story a second time, you'd start performing it."
Wexler and Henkin are brainstorming creative ways to bring the Stoop to more people. Perhaps they could put together a storytelling workshop for the public schools.
"Telling a story in the first person requires being critical about your own life," Wexler says. "It's educational and empowering and enlightening."
And you just never know where it might lead.
On Sept. 24, the final speaker was a woman named Karen Weeks. In her hand, she held something round and shiny, something gold and onyx with an opal stone.
She held Magruder's wedding band.
"Since I caught this ring, my romantic relationships have been tumultuous," Weeks told the crowd. "I struggled with the question: `Could an object be cursed?' I thought about throwing it away at an earlier show, but it was raining, and I didn't come. I figured the ring orchestrated it.
