Thursday, November 6, 2008

A free dinner is a good trade for a crappy show or I am still the social whore

I’ve made one friend at work, a guy who appears rather normal and a bit of a smart ass. Just how I like ‘em. He visits my taupe island of solitude daily to exchange idle chit chat, discus our love of pies and to escape the estrogen induced pajama party over on his side of the office. Yesterday after bantering for a few minutes he crossed the line into “after work” socialization when he invited me to his friend’s show on the UWS. I of course said yes since my evening plans of mouse hunting had been delayed because of Scooter’s day worker schedule thereby leaving me unengaged. Oh and because I am “the social whore” – you paying… I’m going.

I got a free dinner and a pre show impromptu acoustic guitar serenade… this guy’s got mad skills on the 6 string (once I think up a catchy nick name I will use it but for now… he is “ guy”) then we were off to the UWS to the
Triad Theatre. I had a vague twinge of “maybe this guy is not taking me to a show but rather he is kidnapping me” when we had to enter through a Turkish restaurant to reach the performance space. But hey I’ve been to ‘Shakespeare in the Hallway’ and ‘Making Porn’ so I didn’t listen too closely to my inner urban single woman voice gently nudging me about the wonky physicality of my surroundings.

Once inside, the theater was adorable, festooned like a little music box all in red and gold. Guy was rather impressed that I had agreed so freely and without question to accompany him to the show since I never once even asked him “What are we seeing?”… hmm he did bring up a good point and now looking back I’ll be sure to have him fill out a complete social dossier with two references the next time I receive any invitation. Program in hand I discovered we were seeing “Lilitus Girls Cabaret” and let’s just cut to the chase the thing SUCKED! Ok it was not the worst I have ever seen mostly because it was short, I was not physically assaulted, and Guy thought it sucked too. It was a musical with non singer/ actors standing on the stage spitting out atonal words that were neither witty, coherent, or rhyming. I think the show was about man bashing feminist transsexual prostitute runaways but I could be totally wrong. It was written by a Swede and there was an overwhelming Swedish presence in the house. The most entertaining was a table of 6 blonds up against the house left wall who were knocking back shots and talking to the performers. They also liked to sing along which really only improved the piece and my enjoyment of the performance.

So I think I got a new friend in Guy. If only I can get him onto the 4pm cookie delivery schedule I think our work relationship will really blossom.

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