What a great night! There was everything from sparkling rhinestones to classic douchebaggery, what more can one ask?
First of all, since I went by myself, I had a box seat! That was very cool. Sadly, there were seven other people in my box. There was another single girl, and she and I were equally appreciative of the show and performances, but the other six people? No applause til the end, no laughter...why are you HERE? And all those seats are the same price, but the other girl and I were the two seats at the back of the box. Figures.
I was wrong to knock Cats!, it's really a lot of fun. It kicks off with all these Christmas lights strung up around the audience tiers and stage, very showy. I kept wishing I could have taken Fiona--I think she's at an age where she could sit still for it, possibly? It's just so showy and fun.
Before it began, they did their announcements, one of which was, "Candy wrappers are very distracting to the audience members around you, so if you really must eat candy during this show, please do so with the wrapper on." Word.
The whole thing was very enjoyable, but the Rum Tug Tugger was again a show stealer; he plucked a woman from the second row and tangoed down the aisle. Mr. Mistoffelees was a close second; honey, when I'm a Cat, I want to be the one decked out in a rhinestone outfit. Good thing his number's near the end, he's almost distracting when amongst the others.
After the show, I went across the street to the Flying Saucer (I actually didn't go beforehand) to meet my friend S., who was needing to take a break from her school projects. She was running late due to an accident in Arlington, so I sat at a table and read my book. Cue tipsy moron. (This is why I usually have my laptop...it's much easier to look busy and it's a great excuse why you can't talk...try that with a book, it's far less effective.)
First of all, he asks what I'm reading. I show him and of course he has no idea. He notices my Cats! program and proceeds to tell me how he saw it on Broadway but didn't like it, saying it was very disappointing considering how famous it was. I just said I didn't think it should be taken too seriously and that the nostalgia factor may help.
While I'm praying for S. to walk in the door, this dude sits himself down at my table. And then of course the waitress comes over and takes both our drink orders. I cannot be rude, but I know S. can be if I need her to. Luckily, she arrives moments later (wondering who in the hell has seated himself at my table) and can tell when I have to introduce myself with my fake name (which had yet to happen) where this is headed.
He proceeds to discuss the origins of our names (my fake name is S.'s real name) and S. totally ignores him while checking her phone. I think I noticeably glaze over. She and I attempt to talk about work around him, though I try not to be too rude. Finally, douchebag pays for his drink and leaves. WTF?
Aside from that, it was a great night. I had one beer and a big fat pretzel, so it was an altogether very pleasant evening.
Except for the part where I parked on the 5th floor of the garage. I parked by the stairs (no elevator on that side), so I had to haul my ass up five flights to get home. That sucked.