#87 thrill me, chill me, fulfill me

I can officially put a giant check mark by one of the activities on my 101 in 1001 list!

✔ 87. Go to a Rocky Horror Picture Show showing at midnight.

Well, technically it started at 11:30pm, but close enough for me!  Last night, I met up for a drink with three slightly adventurous ladies, including Elizabeth from The Young Retiree (the only one to bring a camera), and then we headed over to see this twice-monthly spectacle at the Naro in Ghent, as done by Fishnet Inc.

First of all, let me say after three years of living here, I didn't realize there were so many freaks and weirdos in Norfolk!  I felt like I was back home in Atlanta . . .  The "usual" crowd definitely was out in full force and full fishnets.  To top it off, it was apparently "Luau Night," complete with various patrons/genders in grass skirts and coconut bras.

I "lied" and purposely did not volunteer myself as a first-timer ("virgin" as they say) for seeing this show, even though I was.  I really did not feel any need to bend over, grab my ankles, and get whacked in the bum with a frat-paddle in front of a bunch of corseted screwballs.  Nor did I feel it necessary to have a giant red "V" marked on my forehead.  For those of you about to call me out for being an "old stick in the mud," I did indeed stand up and do the Time Warp dance.  So back off.

As for the actual show itself . . . umm yikes?!  According to Wikipedia, this is a "1975 British musical horror comedy/rock opera film that parodies science fiction and B-movie horror films."  That is quite a tiresome list of genres for 100 minutes of film!  The one and only time I have seen the movie was about ten years ago when it was playing on loop during Halloween week on VH1.  This movie apparently has not been very memorable to me after all of the living I've done since then, and I'm still not certain if it has a cohesive plot.  (However, I don't think that really matters to its cult followers.)

At this live showing, the movie was playing on a large screen, and in front of that the live players were acting the same stuff out like an under-funded high school drama group.  Then to top it off, there were the "aisle guys" who were standing around and shouting out innuendo-laden comments the entire time.  They were mostly in unison (many times with other seated audience members), but I could only make about half of it out.  And you couldn't hear the sound on the movie hardly at all, so it was just kinda overwhelming.  I couldn't decide what to actually pay attention to -- I felt exhausted by the sensory overload.  (Luckily, this theatre does not allow the audience to bring props or throw stuff, so I didn't have to worry about being pelted by rice in the middle of my conundrum.)  I did however hear more swear words in the course of two hours than I've heard in the last 8 years combined.

My friend who could stomach my Chicken Tikka Masala apparently could not stomach this cross-dressed absurdity for too long.  She hardly made it 20 minutes before walking out, but all she really missed was audience members (not including myself) running a few laps around the theater in their underwear.  Oh, and Susan Sarandon making the biggest mistake of her career.

 Yes, that's a dude, but he oddly reminds me of
my [female] high school principal.

sky bar

This past Saturday night was a celebration.  A wardroom wives' (and future wives') get-together to celebrate a certain passage of time.  After eating dinner at Catch 31 and drinking wine on the beach under the watchful eye of the King Neptune, our fearless leaders had schmoozed and flirted their way into getting us access to the ever-exclusive Sky Bar.  For the most part, this place is members-only, but it's also open to Hilton guests, since it's on their 21st floor.  But I think that hotel is one of the most expensive on the boardwalk, so no one I know has ever stayed there.  It's a rooftop bar, which sounds cool in theory, but at 10pm, you can't see the ocean below anyway.  It was dark, there were lit-up pools serving as a barrier to the side railing, and there were something akin to beds (check the picture I stole from their Facebook page).  And a couch thing we sat on and quickly realized the pretty white fabric was really just a large towel slip-cover.  Rough hotel towel fabric.  Not even the plushy terry-cloth kind.  You wouldn't even be able to watch a sunset up there, considering that we're staring east into the Atlantic.

Now what type of people would pay $200 a year to frequent a bar with only two types of wine (including a disgustingly strong red), ridiculously slow waitresses dressed like they were about to take the court at Wimbledon, and pools that no one even put their feet in?  If you guessed slightly creepy old men, you are correct.  The wonky character brigade was actually the most entertaining aspect of this ostentatious place.  There was one guy--who is definitely a regular--walking around in a white boat captain's hat with various patches on it.  Kind of odd bar attire.  Then there was another guy who kept walking by our little towel-bench and counting us - pointing as he did like he was making sure all the kids are back on the bus after the class trip to the zoo.  He did this no less than three times throughout the night.  To take our focus off the creepsters, we decided to find which female patron had the shortest dress.  We found some close competition, but we decided upon a winner.  I don't think this girl could've bent over or even sat down in that thing.  And unfortunately (or probably fortunately?), I didn't have a camera.

Well, I'm  pretty sure that is my last foray into pretentious bars for a while.  The experience reminded me how glad I am that I don't have to play that single person's game any longer.  All image, no substance.  Actually, I never really had to play that game with B, so thank God for that.  But if you wanna play that game (or want a front row seat to watch it) and are of the double-X chromosome persuasion, I hear it's free for ladies on certain Thursday nights.  As for me, I'll stick to my neighborhood watering holes.