Thursday, October 6, 2011

SIA and People Fatigue

Well thank the good Oprah it's Thursday.  I am just beat readers.  I woke up this morning, uncaffeinated, and went to a meeting in the suburbs of Clarendon.  Did you know there were sections of Clarendon more suburban than Wilson Blvd.?  I didn't, it was like walking through Amish Country but with more cars and less potato salad.  It really took it out of me.

But let's talk about yesterday.  I forwent a couple of medications needed for my survival so I could buy myself a ticket to see Les Miserables at the Kennedy Center with a friend who will remain nameless, even in code name form, to protect his or her identity.  Before we went to the show, we stopped at the new Roti nearby to get some dinner.  Readers, if there is one thing I take seriously, it's food, and let me tell you, though it is a chain, Roti has the best falafel I have ever had.  It's moist (hate that word), stays together well, and is perfectly complemented by the various sauces and toppings you can add to it.  Completely amazing, it was like a map of the Mediterranean exploded in my mouth.

Then we were off to the show.  As we are borderline alcoholics, we had plenty of time before the curtain to grab a drink.  I counted this as "social drinking", but only had one rather than my two allotted drinks, because, daaaaaaaaang! That Kennedy Center is expensive y'all.  As I stood in line to buy a $6 beer and be the least classy person there, I noticed something in my periphery, a small gray dot.  I turned my head and noticed an older lady inching up beside the line.  She proceeded to stand next to me at the front of the line and "inspect" the price list.  When the bartender looked up and said, "Next?", I barely got my mouth open before this old rag said, "Three glasses of champagne, please"

Ummmmm....say what now huh?  I avoid direct confrontation, but God do I love a good passive aggressive moment.  It usually makes my friends embarrassed to be with me, but my companion on this evening was amenable so I said, quite audibly, "Wow, I thought in America we respected a little thing called lines.  Isn't this America?".  I was trying to appeal to the lady's WWII era patriotism, but I guess she was too old to hear or was deaf in one ear or something because she didn't even flinch.

Then, she had no cash, AT A CASH ONLY BAR.  Now, I know I have recommended this tactic in the past, and her elderly friends did come to her rescue with the roughly $40 the three glasses cost, but in this case it was annoying because it took this devil's threesome roughly 10 minutes to get their shiz together.  I even gave her friend the look, and gosh darn it if she didn't give me the look right back! Props on that one; nicely played beyotch, nicely played.

Finally, the bartender has taken their money and is finishing pouring the drinks when another old person, a man this time, saddles up next to me and throws two sandwiches on the bar directly in front of me.  For a moment I think, "Ah, this kind man has noticed my rotund figure, he must have intuited that I am hungry and he's offering me a snack.  What a kind sir."  But guess what readers, it wasn't so!

He coughed out "I'M TAKING TWO SANDWICHES!" to the bartender (no need to shout sir, she's just right there) and off he went with his sandwiches and my heart.

I finally cry out to the alcohol Gods, "Am I invisible?!" and just at that moment, the bartender takes my order.  And after all that, the beer wasn't even good.  Foiled again.

Once that charade (pronounced sharod) was over, we settled in to enjoy the show.  It was beautiful and the voices were out of this world, especially the Eponine who was color blind casted like ABC's 1997 Cinderella, because the last time I checked a fat white lady and a dirty Ebenezer Scrooge type do not make a gorgeous black daughter.

The only minor distraction was that I was next to a woman and her daughter, and it became plainly evident that the woman didn't have a clue what was going on, despite the detailed summary she had in front of her.  Every three minutes or so, she would turn to her daughter and say "Que esta pasando?" and her daughter would reply with a three minute rant about everything that had occured in the last 30 seconds, "El hombre es prisonero."  "Que?" "Estan en Paris" "Como?" "Ahora tiene mucho dinero." "La hija?" "Ay, mama! No".

For those of you who don't speak Spanish, here's a translation: "He's a prisoner." "What?" "They're in Paris." "Come again?" "Now he has a lot of money." "The daughter?" "Oh my God Mom, no!".

Like imagine explaining Twitter to your grandparents, such was the daughter explaining an intricate musical about the French Revolution to her mother.  C'mon now, at least wait until intermission.  Do not come between me and a good musical, friends, it will not end well.

I think that's about all for today, I hope you're all enjoying the lovely weather, those of you who are in DC at least, I'm about to go pick up the aforementioned necessary medications before I pass out.  Woot!


  1. I saw your blog on BudgetsAreSexy. YOU ARE HILARIOUS.

    That is all.


  2. Thanks, TJ! Your initials match those of my favorite economy grocery store, Trader Joes. Thus, you are most welcome on the blog. Hope you continue to follow!