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So once a year we book ourselves out and schedule a Ladies Only Weekend in honor of The Mother's Birthday. We don't go far - just book a hotel Downtown, make reservations for something fun, and we eat and shop ourselves into a fabulous oblivion.

This year's Something Fun were tickets to see The Lion King at The Paramount, a gorgeous testament to the arts in all of it's refurbished glory.

We started off by having a late lunch of Thai chicken lettuce wraps - to die for - and hitting the stores with great elan.

I managed to contain myself in the Shoe Department at Nordstom, and the kitchen section at Pottery Barn, but I can't say the same when offered a slab of apple cake with rum sauce to accompany my fabulous cup of Starbuck's.

We all met back at The Hotel where I set to rinsing the rum sauce spot off my shirt and and we all began to get ready for the play. We opted out of a big dinner as not to stuff ourselves before the show. But, you know, we brought snacks with us, of course. Just a little fruit, brie, artichoke bruschetta topping, olives, salami and sharp cheddar.

Just a little nibble to go with the Shaker(s) of Lemon Drops.

The Lion King was - well - indescribable. The costumes, the music, the stage - all completely fabulous. Too fabulous for words. I am always in awe when I watch actors on stage. I can't imagine having to remember the lines and the movements and all of the glory that goes with it. The animation in their faces alone is breathtaking.

Seated next to me was a Darling Old Woman who smelled of mothballs and who's red lipstick was slightly askew. She was a patron of the arts and chatted with me about the studies and her work in the theater. Engaging with her in conversation was nearly as magical as the show itself.

When the audience would break out applause, she would lean over and give her complete review of the scene. I loved every minute of it.

At one point during the show, actors dressed to represent marsh grass slithered across the stage. Their costumes were a very thin (very thin...) flesh-colored nylon and left very very little (very little...) to the imagination. When the lighting and their bodies were just right, we all got a clear view of, well, Nylon Encased Man Parts. It caused me to gasp, which caught the attention of The Darling Old Woman. She patted my hand and said, "Sweetie - that's just one of the many perks of the theater. Enjoy it!"

I really should have exchanged phone numbers with her. Seeing the play was engaging, but seeing through her eyes was the pinnacle of Fabulousness.

We left before the encore curtain call as not to get caught up in the throngs of people. Our goal was to be on the sidewalk and hailing a taxi before the rest of the patrons did the same. With little fuss, we snagged a Yello Cab.

The Driver was a combination of the Jim chacter from Taxi and Jim Carey's character from Limeny Snickett. And he had this OCD behavior which caused him to adjust the rear view mirror, fuss with the radio dials, and run his fingers through his hair with amazing swiftness in it's repetition.

Within the first 3 minutes of entering the cab - and I had to take the front seat - he honked at the cab in front of us and screamed, "Get the fuck moving!" and honked his horn again. I casually turned back to lock eyes with The Sister who was covering her mouth to hide a giggle.

Mr. Cab Driver got tired of waiting for the cab in front of us to load so he jerked into traffic, squealing the tires in the process. I don't think I have ever ridden so fast through the streets of Seattle. I really do believe that we were airborne in a couple of occasions.

At the first stop light I looked over and said, "So, having a good night?" while chuckling slightly.

"Oh, yeah. I LOVE this job!"

...adjust the rear view mirror, fuss with the radio dials, and run his fingers through his hair...

With that we careened down the street and slammed into the left lane to turn the corner. I kid you not when I say Mr. Cab Driver turned the corner so sharp and so fast that the driver's side wheels ran up and over the curb and we did a fish-tail screeching lane adjustment like you only see on old episodes of Starsky and Hutch.

...adjust the rear view mirror, fuss with the radio dials, and run his fingers through his hair...

At this point everyone in the back seat was reduced to body shaking fits of laughter. The Mother was biting her lip so hard I thought she was going to break the skin.

As we approached the hotel he literally slammed on the breaks hard enough that we came to a screeching halt along the curb. Two flight attendants waiting for their airport shuttle actually jumped back. When I went to open the door Mr. Cab Driver shouted, "WAIT! This isn't a good spot!" And he hit the gas and slammed on the breaks so fast that I thrust toward the dash and had to brace myself with my left hand, right hand still on the door handle.

...adjust the rear view mirror, fuss with the radio dials, and run his fingers through his hair...

"Ok. NOW! But everyone exit the cab on the right side. I don't want anyone getting hurt!"

...adjust the rear view mirror, fuss with the radio dials, and run his fingers through his hair...

I paid the fare and we all stood on the curb in dead silence as he sped back in to traffic. The Mother tightened the belt on her overcoat and said, "That was the most fun $6.00 ever bought me", and with that we all laughed hysterically and made our way up to the room.

Sunday we spent the morning luxuriating on soft beds eating over-priced room service and admiring the view of Elliot Bay. The Mother blew out her birthday candle and we all celebrated by continuing to eat and drink and shop ourselves into a fabulous oblivion.

(Author's Note: Seattle is a fabulous city and if you haven't had the pleasure of visiting, you really need to do that, sometime.)

Posted by Foodwhore at January 18, 2005 10:25 AM

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