Show and dinner

We got in to see Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson! It was a struggle. First we were put on the waiting list earlier today. Then we showed up. I ended up buying a scalped ticket from some hapless guy outside. His date didn't show up, he didn't realize he had a hot ticket on his hands, so I ended up with a $70 ticket for $40 bucks. When I pulled out a wad of cash to pay for it, the guy said, "maybe I should have asked for more money>" Ya think? But Ira still needed a ticket. I sat in the second row. Ira squeaked in at the last minute and sat farther back. But he'd already seen it earlier in the week.

It was an emo musical about populism and Andrew Jackson, with lots of contemporary political dialog about our own brand of populism, plus lots of Indian arrow attacks and hard-driving pop songs. Ira thought Andrew was a major babe. I liked Calhoun myself.

The show ended near midnight and all the restaurants close up around then. We tried to hail a cab and got no bites. A limo pulled over illegally and offered to take us for $15. I told Ira, "that's too fucking expensive" and we looked away. The guy sat there and said, "OK, ten." That was our price and we took the limo to Pastis, yet another McNally-run eatery. There was a huge crowd milling around outside and I feared a long wait, but we got seated immediately in a charming banquette near the back. We shared a plate of malbeque oysters, very salty and unlike the sweetwaters we usually get on the West Coast. Then Ira had the steak tartare and I had a light and fluffy fish and chips, which was excellent. Ira finished the meal with chocolate mousse, me with cheesecake. We had a convivial time, sitting next to foreign speakers, Spaniards on the left, Portuguese on the right. Ira said, "I can't wait to get to Venice so we can hear some English!" Time for bed now, more tomorrow.