My friend Kenny and I driving up Route 9 see a huge orange moon two days past being full looming in the sky like an omen. It is Friday the 13th.
We walk into Club Bene and are standing at the door waiting to be seated. A waiter walks by with a tub of dirty dishes and nearly decapitates me. I give Kenny one of those familiar looks of "Okay, this is going to be interesting!" A waitress seats us at a long table next to a rather rude man. This man complains to us that the chairs are too close together and that I should get up and move them down. Realizing he is rude and chauvinistic, I rise to the occasion and move the chairs for him. Kenny and I exchange our "What's wrong with this picture?" glances. The rude man had a sudden attack of humility or embarassment and attempted an apology by making excuses.
We scope the room and both Kenny and I comment that it feels as if we're at a wedding with a bunch of relatives we don't really know. Dishes are clattering and people are drinking. Is this the Todd concert? The Tiki Bar is set up on stage. Must be.
We decide to move ourselves away from the rude guy and closer to the stage. We end up sitting in front of a big dude who is half-drunk already at only 8:15 p.m. The big dude ordered a huge platter with some sort of seared cow's flesh on it. Kenny and I don't eat beef. I looked at Kenny and said, "I want some snacky cakes and cheesy poofs!"
Our waiter, John, showed up. Kenny ordered a ginger ale and I a grapefruit juice. John delivers our drinks and even though I tipped him, he could see that we were not going to be big drinkers, and therefore, big tippers that night. We never saw John again.
The show starts. Todd "The Bosa Nova Man" comes on stage as usual hiding behind his shades. Could be cuz the future's so bright. Smoothly croons to the Latin grooves, even though his vocal chords have been done in by the "Bird Flu". He claims the only part of his body that wasn't touched by this "influenza" was his "bird". Kenny and I launch into our "How do birds do it? They have little peckers" joke. Todd makes more jokes about the media being on par with lawyers. After a joke about the over-inflated Titantic budget, Todd gives his predictions for the next three big budget movies. Third on the list--South Park--The Movie! Kenny and I cheered! We would have thrown cheesy poofs in the air, if we had some.
After the first set, a comedian comes out. I was embarassed for him, as he was bombing big time. Kenny and I wanted to give him some of our best jokes to help him out, but he didn't ask us, so we couldn't offer. The comic utilized two guy actors on stage in the Tiki lounge to do "homo" jokes. The two men started dancing--straight guys pretending to be a gay couple on their honeymoon. Kenny is bi-sexual. I suggested he could give them a few pointers.
Kenny and I were fighting over wanting the hula dancer lamp on the Tiki Bar and some of that grass on the bar to make ourselves a couple of cute matching skirts.
Set Two - Amidst the smoke and rumbling of volcanic temblors enters "The Individualist". Kenny told me those weren't volcanic temblors but the sounds of my very own heart rumbling. "Oh", I said, "You sure it's not gas?" It was during this set that Kenny confirmed to me just what it is Todd wears under those skirts, for Kenny could see the outline of Todd's undies as he bent over to accept a heart-shaped box of candy from a 5-year-old audience participant. Kenny likes boys, so he was looking. Somewhere before or after doing his "Tiki Dance", Todd pretended to shoot me with an arrow, which tore into my rumbling heart. He's "The Individualist". I'm "The Unforgiven". The Individualist disappeared in a huge puff of volcanic smoke, leaving us to cough and hack our way through. I pulled the pretend arrow from my heart and burped. The rumbling continued. I guess it wasn't gas.
Second intermission, they relieved the comic of his embarassment, for he didn't show up again. New people arrived at the Tiki Bar, as the two pretend gay men danced off into the huge orange moonlight and were sure to fall in love backstage this Valentine's Eve. Seems the big drunk guy behind us that wolfed down that seared cow's flesh was going to play the drunk at the bar. In handing his drink to him over our heads, his girlfriend spilled vodka on Kenny's pant leg. Kenny got baptized. We were thinking this guy fit the part since he was already drunk. While this guy was sitting behind us the whole time, Kenny was afraid he was going to get jumped in the parking lot for being and acting so effeminate. I said, "I'll break anybody in two who messes with you, Kenny!" and I'm just a skinny girl.
Speaking of parking lots, we headed out the door in search of something to quell my rumbling heart. On the way to the car, that big orange moon fell out of the sky and hit Kenny right on the head. I yelled, "Oh no! They killed Kenny! You bastards!" But then Kenny gets killed every week in South Park, I mean Amboy.
South Park, I mean Amboy is the place to be.
Baba Bosa Noveau and Kenny