Didn't See That One Coming...

Guess where I was last night, folks. Seriously, guess. I was in the mezzanine of the gorgeous Richard Rodgers Theatre, seeing In the Heights. Thanks to the magic of eBay, I was able to acquire two tickets. Lenora was just pleased as punch to be invited. Actually, that's a bit of an understatement. According to her, she "nearly had a heart attack." Well, far be it from me to deny a white girl her musical about Latinos in Washington Heights. Our seats were perfectly marvelous, if you don't count the fat obnoxious lady who sat next to me and kept insisting that I was in her seat. At least there were no old crows screeching at me for cracking my water bottle this time. The show was fantabulous, as always. I've said it before and shall say it again: Olga Merediz, who plays the grandma, is grossly underrated. Seriously. I was tempted to stand up at the end of her solo, but I didn't want to look like a freak. Instead, I kind of just raised my arms and clapped. I was tempted to whoop, but I didn't. I consider whoops to be kinda uncivilized. This is not ancient Greece. That said, I did actually give a little whoop at the curtain call, but that was a very rare occurrence, I assure you. We intended to rush down to the stage door, but the dense crowds prevented rushing of any kind. We missed Olga Merediz. She is famous for being out the door within five minutes. We did, however, meet Mandy Gonzalez, who plays the eighteen-year-old Nina but in real life is actually about thirty-five and married. We also met Lin-Manuel Miranda, who composed the show and plays the lead. I've met him before, but Lenora hasn't. She started shaking and babbling and fangirling. For a minute I was scared that she was going to pass out. We got through that, though. A half hour later we retreated from the very crowded stage door and made our way back through Times Square. As we were passing by Shubert Alley, we heard shrieks. I made the mistake of saying, "Oh, Daniel Radcliff must be coming out of Equus." Two seconds later, Lenora was dashing through Shubert Alley. I thought fast. Equus. At the Broadhurst. "Right turn!" I yelled out, and then proceeded to chase her through Shubert Alley. Some of you may not be acquainted with the vicious wind that rips through the Alley all year round. And this was December in New York. And I was wearing heels. It's a miracle I made it through, but I did. Alas, once we got to the Broadhurst, some lingering fangirls told us that Mr. Radcliffe had left not ten minutes ago. That was probably for the best, since Lenora probably would have died on the spot if she met Daniel Radcliffe. Explaining that one to her parents would have been fun. That would be a good way to go, though. As for me, I made my mind up back in Chelsea. When I go, I'm goin' like Elsie. (For the record, I mean Elsie, Sally's briefly-mention best friend in Cabaret. Not the cow from Rent.)

On the way back from the theatre, Lenora and I succumbed to the urge to take a picture in Times Square. For a minute we stood in the middle of the sidewalk like bumbling tourists and posed for a picture that came out looking perfectly awful. You can see the huge, glowing, tacky Times Square billboards in the background. The two of us, however, are completely in silhouette.

For me, the best part of the evening was standing in the parking garage by the Kerr, waiting for the car. There were several severely drunk hipsters there that were discussing the benefits of learning Portuguese. My favorite part was when a girl in a cream coat, who was the drunkest of them all, broke away from the crowd, hung on to the wall, and declared loudly in a voice that I suppose was meant to be a whisper: "Yeah, the drugs I got for my condition *mumble blabber drunken slur*!" Drugs for your condition. Your condition. As far as I could tell, one of the symptoms of the aforementioned condition was acting like a huge dumbass in public. When the attendant finally arrived, she started yelling at him in Portuguese. It was a joy to behold.

Well, it was a perfectly marvelous night, I can assure you. On Friday I'll be at The Music Box seeing August: Osage County, and then on the 18th I'll be at Spring Awakening's closing night. Hurrah for non-temperance.