I have been on some pretty good dates in my time, but none are ever as pleasant as a date with Sarah. Have you been on a date with Sarah? If not, and you're not married, an international playboy, a lower back fetishist, an anti-Semite, or someone who considers himself the living incarnation of vox populi (to name a few of the ennobled characters I have encountered on such outings myself), I suggest that you do.
We saw a modernized production of King Lear downtown. She looked very elegant and was wearing a dress and baubles. I, in pants and a ponytail, bore a striking resemblance to Cappuccino, the bull who has recently killed people with his noxious tusks in Pamplona. This particular performance offered a deal on tickets to "Young Professionals Under 35." It was lucky, therefore, that they did not ask for my "Young Professionals" ID, as I have only a fake one, and usually my "Young Nobodies" ID doesn't work as a substitute in such situations. The Young Professionals filed in.
They'd clearly segregated the young people from the old, we noticed, as we made our way to our seats in the balcony; bands of smartly-dressed just-came-from-work girls and their dragged-here-unwillingly-hope-I-get-sex-afterward dates were seated all around us. Below were the telltale heads of the usual theatergoers: gray and unswivelling. I decided that two very hot men would sit beside us: One who lived in Dubai or something and was therefore unavailable, and one -- the hotter and more intelligent one --who would live but a mere distance from Sarah and enjoy goat, traveling, musical performances, and gelato. Our reverie was broken as a smartly dressed young lady and her date plopped down beside us. The man turned to us.
"This is gonna be awesome!" he bellowed. He pumped a fist.
Thus unfolded Young Professionals Night at the Shakespeare Theater.
The play, which was three and a half hours long and contained some U2 and several gratituous penises, was all right but somewhat confusing. For someone who has read King Lear (although I only realized this during the intermission, which we used to snicker at other members of the audience), I was completely confused about the plot points until the end. The Young Professionals rose into a standing ovation, their uncomfortable high heels be damned.
We took the Metro back to Sarah's (after all, no gentleman lets his date go home unescorted in the once-and-future murder capital of the nation) where my sister, also gallant because it runs in the family, was there waiting to pick me up and take me back to Maryland. This was after midnight, but because my sister is energetic and free, she had already been out anyway and it was no trouble for her. I bid Sarah good-bye for a day and climbed into the car.
The DC area, as you can see, is a zone of Ladies of the Highest Quality. If you're jealous right now, you should be. Cappuccino over and out.
Friday, July 10, 2009
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5 comments:
waitasec...are you sayin' my wife's not a lady of high quality?
Why were there penises in King Lear? Was Lear forced to give up his wizened wang along with his power? Why was there U2? Where did the U2 come from? When can I go on a date with Sarah? These questions are among the many your post has aroused in my brain.
I will remember this crack about the living incarnation of the vox populi the next time you report on what The People think, on my facebook page.
I, too, am curious as to what rendition of King Lear includes U2.
Nate: Well done; you have deftly read between the lines to discover my true message. That is *exactly* what I meant.
Jen: Maybe it wasn't U2, but if not, it was some other much-cheered band of international repute that had no business in King Lear. I think they were trying to appeal to the people.
Speaking of whom, BW, I still remain the living incarnation of that populace. Which is how I know that men on dates who claim to be the same couldn't possibly. The people continue to be horrified by the gratuitous appearances of penises on screen, stage, and the male form. And you'll have to broker the date with Sarah yourself, unfortunately, as the people aren't really equipped for such things.
nice entry Kara. I feel the same sentiments whenever I went to Repertory plays. I love the part where you mention the young professionals bringing in their "i-hope-i-get-sex-afterwards" date. Bravo, indeed. =) It's pretty much the same anywhere around the world. Well, maybe except for the penis jangling scenes of a modernized King Lear alongside a U2 segue.
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