-The same restaurant twice. With a two-hour play in between.-
Tomorrow, brunch with my childhood friends and an investment banker. But tonight was the night of my former professor's play, and two visits to the same restaurant.
We were asking for trouble when we made reservations for 6:30 in the one major restaurant open late in this town, a town not dissimilar to the hidden mainstreet-USA block in 'Big Fish.'
Like that sorry place, this town had its boom and bust years. Now the city fathers - but more often investors from beyond - are hard at work cutting down vines and righting houses. Since the majority of the gentrifications are far from complete, and those original businesses still in operation function at lowest ebb during the day, and not at all after dark, 'Roman's' is the only available eatery.
We're overdressed, but so are the waiters. The manager is breaking in a new one tonight, a tall and skinny kid mangling drink orders and growing paler with each bill. He fills three glasses the size of D batteries to the brim with red wine, closes his eyes to slits, and crosses the room like a tight-rope walker.
As a result, we catch the manager's eye just in time. The theatre is two blocks away, but the seating is first come, first serve. Surprisingly, the lead actor (my professor) is in the doorway serving members of the audience from a plateful of cheese and knishes. I love it when they break down the third wall - or fourth wall, depending on how your stagebuilder assigns the numbers. Audience participation is crucial to the success of this production, and my professor is never so funny as he is when things go awry. Props tumbling, costumes slipping; the accidents are never major enough to bring the production to a halt, and the two leads deliver every zinger flawlessly, and on cue.
By the time the last applause faded, our party had swelled to eleven; we return to the one restaurant open late. Roman's hostess doesn't recognize us in the same way the rabbits from Watership Down didn't count past four. She knows she wants to go home on time, though, and makes us promise to only order coffee and desert.
As we sit I can only think of two previous days in which I visited the same eatery twice in the same day. Both prior establishments were 24-hour diners with Sarah Lee pastries on turntables. This is an upscale Italian restaurant with a wine cellar and humidor on site. I'm getting repetitive and upwardly mobile in my old age.
Tomorrow, brunch with my childhood friends and an investment banker. But tonight was the night of my former professor's play, and two visits to the same restaurant.
We were asking for trouble when we made reservations for 6:30 in the one major restaurant open late in this town, a town not dissimilar to the hidden mainstreet-USA block in 'Big Fish.'
Like that sorry place, this town had its boom and bust years. Now the city fathers - but more often investors from beyond - are hard at work cutting down vines and righting houses. Since the majority of the gentrifications are far from complete, and those original businesses still in operation function at lowest ebb during the day, and not at all after dark, 'Roman's' is the only available eatery.
We're overdressed, but so are the waiters. The manager is breaking in a new one tonight, a tall and skinny kid mangling drink orders and growing paler with each bill. He fills three glasses the size of D batteries to the brim with red wine, closes his eyes to slits, and crosses the room like a tight-rope walker.
As a result, we catch the manager's eye just in time. The theatre is two blocks away, but the seating is first come, first serve. Surprisingly, the lead actor (my professor) is in the doorway serving members of the audience from a plateful of cheese and knishes. I love it when they break down the third wall - or fourth wall, depending on how your stagebuilder assigns the numbers. Audience participation is crucial to the success of this production, and my professor is never so funny as he is when things go awry. Props tumbling, costumes slipping; the accidents are never major enough to bring the production to a halt, and the two leads deliver every zinger flawlessly, and on cue.
By the time the last applause faded, our party had swelled to eleven; we return to the one restaurant open late. Roman's hostess doesn't recognize us in the same way the rabbits from Watership Down didn't count past four. She knows she wants to go home on time, though, and makes us promise to only order coffee and desert.
As we sit I can only think of two previous days in which I visited the same eatery twice in the same day. Both prior establishments were 24-hour diners with Sarah Lee pastries on turntables. This is an upscale Italian restaurant with a wine cellar and humidor on site. I'm getting repetitive and upwardly mobile in my old age.
posted by Benedict | 11:45 PM
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