City Paper : I can't tell. How old are you?

Andy Prescott : I thought in show business you weren't supposed to say how old you are. OK, 44.

CP: What's it been like being the toast of Odette's?

AP: Being a fixture playing piano bar Friday nights at Odette's over the last 15 years has been fantastic. Interacting with the audience, playing everybody's favorite song, getting tips, making people feel special and making them laugh ... and then, getting to perform in their cabaret room? Developing an act? That's like being the big fish in a small pond. Unfortunately, Odette's has been closed due to the damage it received during the big flood on June 28 and there's no word on when or if it might reopen. But it has been lucky for me that over the last year I've been able to refine and improve About Face there.

CP: What's your surgical history?

AP: In real life, I had surgery almost 20 years ago. Chin, cheekbones, eyes, nose, forehead — everything the doctor suggested.

CP: And after the transformation?

AP: Everyone thought I looked the same, which is kinda what "Andy" realizes by play's end. That nothing changed. And that's OK too. The adventure was the thing. I got to learn to love myself from the inside, corny as it sounds.

CP: Why do it?

AP: Look, I wanted to be a star, and thought that I could be a star, if my face looked better. I also wanted to look more like my good-looking brothers. Gosh... I want to sound as upbeat as possible. In the play I definitely made it more upbeat than in real life. In actuality, I believed I had too much surgery. And that I wasn't as bad off as I thought I was. [Groans.]

CP: What made you think this was a Fringe-worthy tale?

AP: The idea of a comedy about plastic surgery seems on the fringe to begin with, doesn't it? Also, I had never heard of any other scripted theater piece being about plastic surgery at a time when it seems like everyone is talking about plastic surgery.

CP: I know you've refitted some old tunes with new lyrics. What tunes best personify About Face?

AP: "Put on a Happy Face," because of the optimism both I and my character feel by play's end. "Piano Man," I guess because "Andy" doesn't really become a star. That's realistic. Not everyone makes it. And "You are so Beautiful" is a great finale because of the gift the character gets at his father's funeral, seeing old pictures of his pop in his Army uniform and such.

CP: So what's been the deepest — but best — scar you could have from all this?

AP: The greatest thing was when I realized that, though my chin might be a little different, I still look like my dad.