The remnants of Hurricane Isaac were still twirling above the city, so my fancy dress and ridiculous shoes had to stay home. *Sheds a tear*
Obviously, I went naked. Ha ha ha.
*Scream-singing "The cir-cle, circle of life! In the path unwinding, yeaaaaaaaah, THE CIRCLE, CIRCLE OF LIIIIIIIIIIIFE"*
Really, though, jeans and a notch above tee shirts for us. And we were under dressed. Surprising, since it seems 90% of the audience consisted of loud, horrible, horrible children.
I mean, little wondrous miracles! Obvious future presidents, Pulitzer Prize winners, and cancer-curing scientists!
Ahem.
For every well behaved child (that made me want to throw a parade for his or her parents), there were about 100 screaming, crying, hitting, running examples of God showing me that I should be thankful that I can't have kids. Thanks, Buddy. You get me, Jesus, you really do. *Gets choked up, gives thumbs up to ceiling, nods in agreement, relishes life full of selfishness*
I received an email from the theater that said we should allow a lot of extra time to get there and that latecomers would not be immediately seated. I have never received an email from The Fox before, even when we had season tickets to a bunch of shows a couple years ago.
Now, I am already a get-there-early type of gal, so this was not good. I tried to be subtle and guide the hubby along, but he kept saying, "You know, it will take us 30 minutes tops to get there." I wasn't buying it. At all.
I managed to get him in the car an hour before the show started, and we stopped for expensive used-to-be-hipster-but-is-now-so-mainstream coffee on the way. The girl's voice at the drive-through that came through the ordering speaker was a little jarring. It was like my eyes started rolling sarcastically even before I knew I was annoyed.
She said to my husband, in a my-other-job-is-at-a-phone-sex-bank-and-I've-forgotten-which-job-I'm-at kind of way, "What do you want me to do for you today?"
He barely paused and ordered quickly before she left us with some sort of "I'll be seeing you in just a minute and will take care of everything you need" parting phrase. I was pretty sure I A) needed a shower and B) was going to really be mad at my husband for something he had nothing to do with. Starbucks must have a new slogan: Making sure you have the caffeine you need so you can get through the spousal fights we start!
He wasn't rolling up his window and driving forward before I said, "Really?"
And he said, "Oh, I knew immediately once she started talking that this wasn't going to be good. In my head, I was like, Oh crap."
I nodded. Appropriate response, Husband. I discovered there is such a thing as a bitchy-growly-sigh, gave one of those to the situation, and we then both laughed.
When we pulled up, the girl continued her odd way of dealing with drive-through customers by purring at my husband but I wasn't as perturbed, since she was neither blond nor had the face to match the inducing-rage type voice.
Besides, my husband, WAY too smart to flirt back in front of me. Even if she had been Heidi Klum's long lost twin, he would have been all, "She wasn't pretty at all! I didn't even notice she was a girl, that is how much I did not notice anything about her!" and so on.
Also, I had other stresses.
In the car, this was the conversation.
Me: Drive faster.
Husband: Do you want me to drive faster?
Me: Angry face at husband.
Husband: Little laugh.
Me: We will NOT be late. I am not missing the opening with the majestic animals.
Husband: Laughs.
Me: I'm serious.
Husband: Keeps his eyes on the road.
Me: MAJESTIC ANIMALS.
Husband: You will see the majestic animals, Honey.
Me: (Sweetly) You know if I miss the majestic animals, I WILL KILL YOU.
Husband: Fighting laughter.
Me: Raised eyebrows. Very do-not-try-me attitude.
Husband: Now trying very hard not to laugh.
Me: Ma. Jes. Tic. ANIMALS.
Husband: Starts to lose control of his this-is-a-serious-conversation face and sort of hacking-laughs.
Me: That is ground rule number 1. YOU WILL NOT MAKE YOUR WIFE MISS THE MAJESTIC ANIMALS. Ground rule number 2 IS YOU WILL NOT LAUGH INAPPROPRIATELY AT ANY TIME DURING THE LION KING."
That's about when the husband totally loses it and I know that I'll be sad when I have to kill him but I'll get over it.
We manage to make it to the theater just in time and sit down basically within moments of the show starting.
MAJESTIC ANIMALS!
The husband, he knew they were coming and where they were coming from because whenever I saw one, especially on up high to the side of us or down an aisle behind us, I jabbed him with my elbow. THERE. THERE. BEHOLD THE MAJESTIC ANIMALS.
The costumes and set were amazing. The show itself was okay. I think our seats in the second row were probably too close (what did I just say? WHAT? Excuse me while I go check in the mirror to make sure I'm still myself). People who had already seen the show in our section kept talking about how they missed the "spectacle" of it, that from our seats, you just didn't get the whole effect.
It also did not help that I sat next to a couple with a little boy. He didn't have a seat. He sat on their laps. And the second the lights went down and the show started, that kid started scream-questioning and commenting. I was impressed at how articulate he was for his age and for his ability to be deafening over the very loud volume of the show while not taking a breath. I mean, it was constant, no pause between sentences, and it continued for the entire show. WHO IS THAT LION? THAT IS BAD LION. WHAT IS HE DOING? WHAT IS THE MAN DOING? WHO IS THAT MAN? THAT IS THE BAD MAN? BAD MAN! BAD LION! WHERE IS HE GOING? WHAT IS THAT? THAT IS A BIRD. THERE IS ELEPHANT. WHERE IS HE GOING? WHY IS THERE A BAD MAN? ROAR! ROAR!
The roaring was particularly impressive. The first half of the musical, the main character is a cub, and he has a little roar. So he would roar, and then the kid next to me would roar. Over and over and over. So loud that we could not hear the dialog or the words to any of the songs. He was as loud as the show and was louder the majority of the time. And no one said a word about it. The mom cooed at the kid, and the dad just sort of acted like he was oblivious to the whole situation. I'm married? This is my child? What? Sir, Madam, I know not what you speak of! Not that you dared speak of anything!
Boo. People and life and the world, boo.
Sigh. It's not often that I think, "Gee, I wish we had seats WAY farther back and hadn't spent all this money on these seats at the front." Actually, it's never that I think that. So this was a first.
Anyway, we at least got out and about and that counts for something. The photo we took before we left sort of exemplifies our big date. It's actually a good photo. You just can't really see that. Extenuating circumstances. Stupid camera. If you look hard, you can see we're happy.
What we should have done is taken a photo of Mav the dog, who could not push us out of the house fast enough. We had the pet sitter come spend some time with her, and she could not have been more ready to get us the f- out. Give me my treat balls and kong, Suckers! Later! Get out! Don't let the door hit you on your way out!
When we got home, she was just as happy to see us, and she had a big smile on her face. OH MY GOD THE LADY CAME AND THERE WAS AFFECTION AND ATTENTION AND OH MY GOD MORE TREATS IN THE TREAT BALLS AND OH. MY. GOD. GUYS! GUYS! I LOVE YOU GUYS!
We love you, too, Mav.
So, we put on our comfy clothes, grabbed some take-out, and cuddled with a barely-conscious Mav on the couch while watching Hell On Wheels. Which was even better than our actual date. And a lot cheaper. And quieter, too.
*Soft roars*
