Saturday night and I've planned something a little different for staff and the boy. I've gotten tickets to the midnight playing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show (the play, not the movie) at the Pumphouse Theatre.
So I've picked up the boy and we're at the Pumphouse, I've introduced him to my colleagues, he's met the Nephew last year at the Rocky Horror (the Movie), but G, the salad chef, new hostess, these are all new to him.
G's concerned that "it better not be some sort of gay show", he's getting that vibe from the costumed patrons, but there are enough females present to keep his attention. And the Nephew is telling the boy about how last weekend G and him were on their way to a party after the bar when they walked into the wrong house, they call out for someone, it hasn't dawned on them and this older woman comes out, she tells them they've got the right house, if they'll just stay put she'll change and they can party with her....
And G has somehow taken over the story and is explaining it, translating from the nephew's heavy accent what happened and verifying what happened, the only difference in his telling is that the nephew wanted to stay and party with the woman....
They excuse themselves and leave, finding the real party....
The boy is laughing, these are stories that lose an awful lot during my retelling to get them directly from the source, independent corroboration, it's hilarious, and he's gotten out his iPod to film G telling the story...
***The first half of the play passes, it's exactly what you'd expect from the Pumphouse, a "glee" styled production with modest audience participation, the Nephew and G are not so into it, the Nephew checking his texts, G staring with his jaw-down and a slack, glazed expression on his face.
*** In the intermission G and the Nephew inquire if it would be rude to leave, I assure them that yes, yes it would, they consent to stay if I agree to buy them a couple of beer.
I give in.
Meanwhile the salad and hostess are having the time of their life, this is their cup of tea. Happy now with beer in hand, the boy with his iPod on record, I bait the Nephew "Tell the boy about the transsexual prostitutes...."
He's too happy to oblige. And once again the boy is in paroxysms of laughter, unable to hold the camera straight..."transsexuals, they are the best and the cheapest...", boy bent double, iPod in general direction of nephew, "...and my friends say 'hey, look, she has balls'" and I look...."
Around this point I realize I've just discovered the next Karl Pilkington, that I need to follow him around with a video camera and record his witticisms and observations and my fortune will be made, I ban the boy from posting these things onto the internet, for personal amusement and proof to his friends what an insane world it is, fine, ....
The Rocky Horror, it was what it was, OK, intermittent sound and occasionally monotone lyrics. Exactly what I would have expected. The company, on the other hand, was admirable and just the proof I needed...