Off to the theatre
The big day had finally arrived and I was running late. Six-fifty in the evening and I was only on 16th and Otis. Had to get to 14th and P., not hit any annoying pedestrians in the process, PARK legally, and then get to the theatre by 7. Definitely didn't happen.
Yesterday was my personal opener to the 2005-2006 season at the Studio Theatre. By some stroke of maternal genius and generosity, my mother scored major points by giving me seasons tickets for my birthday. That I recieved a birthday present is odd. That it is a cool present I can brag about is astounding and hasn't happened since I was seven and got the very cool pink Strawberry Shortcake two-wheeler (with trainers just in case).
The play: A Number. In short, father donates to a sperm bank, and creates 21 children, 20 more than he expected. The play explores the dynamics of discovering new relationship between father and sons. Ted van Griethuysen plays father, and Tom Story carries three complicated personalities of the sons. An engaging one hour situation before a full, captivated audience (The audience included a man with bright red sports socks, his companion in equally bright red slides. Just happened notice from the late seats in the back.
Feeling all New Yorky and intellectualized, I wandered through Dupont Circle to digest the play's quirks, one-liners, and questions of existentialism (at one point, the son wonders if there are other versions of himself out there in the world, is he really himself, the original? or a version of himself? Glad I'm not a twin.)
A few sights around Dupont Circle on a Sunday night in early fall:
Righteous games of chess in the Books-A-Million cafe, and a guy knocked out asleep like he was home in front of the TV instead of the Reference section.
"That guy just pinched my butt." Said matter of factly in the travel secion of Kramerbooks and Afterwards.
Guy on a bike says to me with a little smile, "Loving the dress. Loving it." He was straight and I smile back.
Gang of teachers lesson planning for Monday classes at Cosi. What up, DCTF.
Finally, end up at Cafe Luna, where a group of boyfriends are eating pizza with knives and forks. My waiter makes up for slow service with a second shot of express, gratis. A cute blondie, a Brad Pitt in the making.
And final thought to close out the night, overheard from a pair of med school grads: "The best way to approach New York is with a complete, open..." My imagination was to piqued to hear the answer.
Yesterday was my personal opener to the 2005-2006 season at the Studio Theatre. By some stroke of maternal genius and generosity, my mother scored major points by giving me seasons tickets for my birthday. That I recieved a birthday present is odd. That it is a cool present I can brag about is astounding and hasn't happened since I was seven and got the very cool pink Strawberry Shortcake two-wheeler (with trainers just in case).
The play: A Number. In short, father donates to a sperm bank, and creates 21 children, 20 more than he expected. The play explores the dynamics of discovering new relationship between father and sons. Ted van Griethuysen plays father, and Tom Story carries three complicated personalities of the sons. An engaging one hour situation before a full, captivated audience (The audience included a man with bright red sports socks, his companion in equally bright red slides. Just happened notice from the late seats in the back.
Feeling all New Yorky and intellectualized, I wandered through Dupont Circle to digest the play's quirks, one-liners, and questions of existentialism (at one point, the son wonders if there are other versions of himself out there in the world, is he really himself, the original? or a version of himself? Glad I'm not a twin.)
A few sights around Dupont Circle on a Sunday night in early fall:
Righteous games of chess in the Books-A-Million cafe, and a guy knocked out asleep like he was home in front of the TV instead of the Reference section.
"That guy just pinched my butt." Said matter of factly in the travel secion of Kramerbooks and Afterwards.
Guy on a bike says to me with a little smile, "Loving the dress. Loving it." He was straight and I smile back.
Gang of teachers lesson planning for Monday classes at Cosi. What up, DCTF.
Finally, end up at Cafe Luna, where a group of boyfriends are eating pizza with knives and forks. My waiter makes up for slow service with a second shot of express, gratis. A cute blondie, a Brad Pitt in the making.
And final thought to close out the night, overheard from a pair of med school grads: "The best way to approach New York is with a complete, open..." My imagination was to piqued to hear the answer.
posted by Rhonda Henderson at 9:24 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home