Friday, there were all sorts of emails flying around on Facebook about where the girls were going that night. I, however, was accompanying SoHo Crush to see Liza at the Palace!
After guzzling down 3 half-price drinks (each) in an hour at the Ritz ,we walked over to the Palace. Everyone had these sippy cups. “What the hell? This is outrageous! I’ve never been able to drink in a theater. Screwdriver, right?” SoHo Crush returned quickly with my souvenir.
I felt right at home doing my awful Jewish Long-Island accent in this crowd (SoHo hates my Jewish Long-Island accent). And, of course, most of the audience was gay as gay could be! I had, for some reason, slipped a cheap fan from the previous night’s gift bag into my coat pocket. This wasn’t the kind of fan that flips out with a crack at the flick of your wrist. Nay, this fan was more like crimped cardboard. And I was queening out with that cheap fan, which was totally appropriate considering the audience was oozing gayness.
have been able to name Cabaret as her movie. But the little else I’ve learned of her has been since I moved here (mostly while I dated SoHo Crush).
Lights dim. Curtains rise. The band comes in from the wings on a moving set into a sort of on-stage bandstand (much like Chicago). And out comes Liza.
From the first note, I could tell she was couldn’t have been more joyful than she was on stage, and the audience’s adoration only augmented her elation. About 5 minutes into the show, I realized that the backdrop of her set was a huge purple triangle. Love it.
The show ran over 2 hours, but it only began to feel long about 3 songs from the end. All in all, it was a great show.
Soho Crush had made reservations at a great restaurant that we had been to before. The boys were planning to go to a birthday party in Jersey City for an Ivy Leaguer whom I had just recently met. The latter of the two seemed like more of an adventure, and when SoHo didn’t seem to disturbed by my desire to venture, I made my way to the PATH train (i.e., hell in a hand basket local transit to Jersey City).
I’m stranded in JC after 11, and I have no way of finding this place or contacting anyone I know. Luckily, the iPhone only teases when it seems to run out of power, so I had just enough juice to look up the address of the party. Urban Sprawl had texted me about alleged popcorn shrimp, but when I arrived, all I saw was a greasy platter with crumbs. Thanks.
Long Island Gays represented, but they left early (trashed!). It ended up being random friends of the host along with Urban Sprawl, Med School Mess, and I. We eventually decided that the three of us wanted to go to No Parking, so we figured out when the next train was leaving. An extra-strong drink and a coughing fit later, we were running to make the PATH (if we missed it, we would have been stuck for like 20 minutes).
And we spent forever at the Hoboken stop.
We finally got on NYC transit and made our way uptown to spend about 40 minutes at No Parking before it closed. Did I mention I’m never leaving the City again? Yeah.
Read about a better Jersey experience here.
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