One Hell of a Meat Show
Last night I went to the Spielpalast Cabaret. It was fantastically sexy. Once again, the ladies (and fellas) put on a great show and the band was amazing. It was worth every penny. I highly recommended going. There are three more shows this week: Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.
A couple friends came to town from New York to see the show. When they arrived, we went to Pho Dang for dinner — Vietnamese food, yum. We thought we had plenty of time, but when we returned to my hovel, I checked the tickets and they said the show started a 7:30. It was 7:08! We quickly put on our dapper attire and walked as fast as we could to City Hall. We arrived at 7:31, only to find a long line.
We finally went inside, but there wasn’t any room on the main floor so we had to sit in the balcony. The lights dimmed and I quivered in burlesque anticipation. The show began and I was transported to another time, filled with vises and sexual innuendos. My foot uncontrollable tapped to the music. I was sweating a bit — I don’t know if it was from the hot room or the dames.
After the first act, we were able to snag a table on the main floor. The show is much better when seen from there, you feel like you’re part of it. (My one suggestion is to get there early and get a table.) The second act was much stronger than the first, but that could have been due to the better view.
After the show — I wish it never ended — we went to a bar across the street for cocktails. As you may know, I rarely drink, but it was a special occasion. After a few drinks we went to another bar and then home.
It was a lovely night. It felt great to dress up and unwind with some old fashioned debauchery. I really needed the break. I should get out more.
When I woke up this morning… er, afternoon, my companions were gone. For a moment I thought the entire night was just a wonderful dream. Then I saw a note on my table, underneath my sock garters (I haven’t figured out what the last line says):
I didn’t take any photographs of the show (apparently there was a big sign that said “No Photos” that I didn’t see). However, I did take some here and there during the night:
Sexy Dames
I’ve been anxiously waiting to see SpielPalast Cabaret for quite some time. This weekend I had the pleasure of seeing it not once but twice. I helped film the show on Saturday. I didn’t really help much. All the cameras were spoken for, so I was the runner. Sunday, I volunteered as a doorman, handing out programs to the the two people that entered the door I was at. Again, I didn’t do much.
The show was fantastic. It was the bee’s knees. It was straight from the fridge. The gals were gorgeous and their performances were amazing. The band was superb. They all did a great job. They went to town with the whole cabaret theme. It all reminded me of a Tom Waits song from The Black Rider or Swordfishtrombones albums.
The shape in a drape Vaurienne Couche-Partout has some photos and more photos on her blog.
I didn’t take any pictures, but I will if go again. Perhaps I can better covey how great it is with images because my words aren’t doing it justice. You really should see it for yourself. They’re performing three more shows this week, May 17–19.
A friend of mine came up to see it yesterday. We got all gussied up and walked down to the theatre. I brought the cat carrier I borrowed for transporting my pal Tom Doe in with me because I had to return it to one of the SpielPalast gals. We got a lot of odd looks while we walked down Church St.
I vish everyday vas like ze cabaret. Maybe I’ll start pretending it is. I’ve already sort of started because when I walk, I hear a squeezebox playing to the rhythm of my pace. I need to start wearing more makeup and dandier clothes. Oh, sock garters too.