Tonight was Date Night of Fanciness, in which me and the girl had dinner at Tavern on the Green (remember when Louis Tully was running from one of Zuul’s dogs in Ghostbusters, and he ends up banging on the glass at that nice restaraunt before getting all possessed? It’s that place) before enjoying Chorus Line on Broadway from third row-center on some one else’s dime. It was nice.

Tavern on the Green has a number of rooms, each with a different theme. We were in the Rafters Room, which while certainly having its fair share of rafters is also full of mirrors, golden animals, and a weather vane that has for some reason or another been painted gold and nailed to the wall. The mirrors are…are hard to describe. That you have to walk through a twisty hallway tiled from floor to ceiling in square mirrors to get to the main room is also hard to describe. Just know that within the dining room itself, every variation on the idea of mirrors you can think of has been covered.

As for the gold animals, well, look. At some point along the way there was a definite line, and that line was clearly passed with hardly a nod.

After you order your food, in that space of time where you’ve gotten your drinks but the appetizers haven’t come, there’s a kid that comes by with a giant contraption around his neck. We’ll call this kid Russ, because there was another one just like him with a similar contraption named that trying to sell photos to old ladies. Photographer Russ moves through the room with the practiced grace of a boardwalk hustler, watching and waiting for that special time when you have your drinks but are waiting for your appetizers. It’s at this special time, this holy time of small talk when Photgrapher Russ swoops in and springs his trap.

Here at Tavern on the Green, he says, they take photos of all their guests. Could you go stand next to her? And of course you do, because this place is so much fancier than you’re used to, and despite the suit you’re wearing and how pretty your girl looks, you are totally Danny Out of His Element. And then Photographer Russ takes your picture, and then he moves on to the next table and makes the same pitch.

And then your food comes, and y’know, you eat.

Afterwards, after your desert and before the check comes, Photographer Russ appears again and asks what you think of the picture, because he wants to sell it to you for twenty-five dollars. And if you don’t want it, he’ll ask why not. If Photographer Russ does not find your answer satisfactory, Photographer Russ will by-god ask the question again.

There are six rooms at Tavern on the Green. Near as I can tell, each one has their own Photographer Russ. That means there are six young men in New York City who, when asked what they do for a living, have to answer “I guilt old people and people just trying to have a nice night into paying a lot of money for a picture they could take themselves.” Or maybe they lie and say they live with their parents, as that sounds more respectable.

Chorus Line was good, except for the problem that’s always there with Chorus Line in the form of Cassie’s character and her entire shoehorned in story line. Oh, that and Team Grandpa, the trio of three old men who sat next to me and offered running commentary, explanation of plot points (“they’re boyfriend and girlfriend, she’s his ex-girlfriend”), and sang along to the first handful of songs until I kinda snapped at him. This Grandpa, Musical Grandpa, was possibly more into the show than the actors on stage. His enthusiasm would have been admirable were it not for the whole SINGING ALONG WITH THE LIVE SHOW BEING PUT ON BY PROFESSIONAL ACTORS part of the night. Fuck you, Team Grandpa.

Filed under: Wreck your life