Sunday, August 2, 2009

Big Gay Musical

Priscilla, Queen of the Desert is just the biggest, gayest, disco-est, over-the-toppest, funnest party musical ever. It is the perfect anti-jetlag musical because, honestly, if you can't keep your eyes open while three drag queens perform "I Will Survive," you're dead. Crowd was pretty much into it, wearing feather boas, clapping along, and suitably liquored up. (Woman behind me was a little too into it, loudly singing along with every song, even when she didn't know the words.) Not only was I awake after it, I was actually pumped.

Got back to the hotel and actually sat and read for a bit. The adrenaline wore off just after midnight, and I crashed till about 9:30 -- took a bit to get used to the noise of the fan, but once I got acclimated, I was OUT.

Woke up, ready for my next day. Which, of course, began by packing up my stuff again, for the promised new room in which everything works. (Had bought a few packing cubes before this trip -- am now a huge fan. They didn't actually make the act of packing easier, and I got the feeling they were taking up a lot of suitcase space -- but they've sure made repacking a breeze.) Turns out the new room isn't ready yet, but I'm on the list. I was promised: (a) a further upgraded room; (b) in which everything works; (c) into which my bags will have been moved by staff.

Anyone want to make a small wager on whether this will actually happen?

After walking up and down the stairs to reception and back to my room, it dawned on my that my feet were sore. This shouldn't come as a surprise, as I'd done a lot of walking yesteday (indeed, I walked more yesterday than I usually do on a normal day in London, much less my first day -- my mornings on the Elliptical machine are paying off). So, this morning, I wandered over to the Chinatown section of town and got me a 30 minute foot massage from a not entirely overpriced establishment.

This was a smart move. Really, I cannot stress enough the smartness of this. Feet totally revived and ready to brave London streets again. Hell, I'm thinking of doing a touristy guided walk tonight.

Saw a matinee today -- a dance show called "Shall We Dance" -- put together by, and starring Adam Cooper. (Adam Cooper? Anyone? No? There are a few performers whom I will fly across the Atlantic to see -- Adam Cooper dancing is one of them. Brilliant, elegant, and insanely charismatic.) My only mistake here was attending a Sunday matinee, where -- despite the fact that I am now in my 40s -- I single-handedly brought down the average age in the room. Seriously. They filled the busses at the retirement home and carted over every little old lady in London. (I'd like to see them take this crowd to Priscilla.) Which was fine -- I mean, I don't want to deprive the elderly of theatre or anything -- but the vibe was a little bit ... well, ... the dude next to me was humming along (without even knowing that he was) and the dude next to him was snoring. Loudly. It was pretty much the exact opposite of the electrified audience at Priscilla. This crowd sat there and said, "OK, entertain us."

That's about it for today. I'm off to see what kind of room I got, and maybe do a London Walk or something this evening.

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