When One is in Town, One Amuses Oneself

I hate people who are not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them.

My dinner date and I were plenty serious about it.

We met at Rowland's and despite them having been open for an hour, he'd taken the first table and already ordered the wine.

Somebody has to.

He was into livestock and I was feeling pescetarian, but that didn't preclude all kinds of food and restaurant talk.

Things like, will we ever have a true Spanish tapas place in Richmond?

After careful consideration, I chose the Sweet Jesus oysters to start, partly because of the name and partly because they come from St. Mary's County, Maryland, site of my last family reunion.

The bivalves were sweet, the mignonette was a hot red pepper and I sucked every bit of juice from the shells while my date ate ravioli.

To each his own.

Next he got the Kick Ass meatloaf (it was an evening of colorfully-named menu items), promising me a slice, and I ordered one of the specials, sauteed soft shelled crab with corn pudding and haricots vert.

The two crispy crabs were smallish, but even sweeter than the oysters and the corn pudding studded with whole kernels underneath every bit as good.

His meatloaf was well-executed and moist, but we weren't fans of the overly sweet tomato sauce topping.

You know what I like cooked into the top of my meatloaf? Onions, that's it.

My date was the curious type, asking my opinion on so many things - patios, New Year's Eve parties, what Richmond needs- and as one who likes to be talked to, I was happy to share my opinions.

I'm a spring inside a clock, wind me up and I'll talk.

When it came time for dessert, we found that we had a shared opinion (dessert = chocolate), but with none on the menu, settled for mixed berry bread pudding with whipped cream and strawberries.

We'd barely finished when it was almost curtain time and we had to jet.

Tonight was preview night for "The Importance of Being Earnest" at Richmond Triangle Players and we didn't want to miss one word of Oscar Wilde's superbly witty dialogue.

Come on, a play with the subtitle, "A trivial comedy for serious people"? Yes, please.

Well, in the first place, girls never marry the men they flirt with.

It turned out to be a unique seating arrangement because I was in the first row and he was in the fourth with the added bonus of my friend Pru in the second.

All very cozy.

The set impressed from the start, moving from Algie's city digs to Jack's bucolic country house, out and in.

The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her if she is pretty and to someone else if she is plain.

In a magnificent bit of casting, Robert Throckmorton played Lady Bracknell, all spitting righteousness in purple taffeta and painted-on eyebrows.

But the entire cast was strong and dressed beautifully in 19th century costumes.

Though I may marry someone else and marry often, nothing can alter my true devotion to you.

Ian Stearns' Algie was impossibly young, dashing and handsome while Thomas Cunningham (a personal favorite from so many Richmond Shakespeare performances and readings) perfectly evoked the more staid and less confident Jack.

Stephen Ryan, another actor who impresses every time I see him, as the butler Merriman almost stole the show with his understated subservience and well-placed eye rolls.

The very essence of romance is uncertainty.

Because it was preview night, the actors had no idea what the audience's reactions would be and there were times when our laughter prevented us from hearing the next line.

It's a great problem to have and I've not doubt they'll allow a bit more space in between certain lines going forward.

In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing.

It was delightful seeing Audra Honaker play Gwen, a very different role than any I'd ever seen her in.

At turns coquettish, her beautiful hair piled on top of her head, and at times a spitfire, afraid her man has betrayed her, she shone every moment onstage, all eyes on fire, pursed lips and longing glances.

If I am occasionally a little over-dressed, I make up for it by being always immensely over-educated.

The play had two brief intermissions and at each one the strangers around me marveled at their delight in the production.

I went to the ladies' room during the second and overheard a woman say to a friend, "Sometimes these previews are a train wreck, but they're doing great!"

That was putting it mildly.

Ripeness can be trusted. Young women are green.

They should have that line put on a t-shirt and sell it during intermission. Looking at tonight's crowd, they'd make a fortune.

Three addresses always inspire confidence, even in tradesmen.

By the end of the play, I think everyone in the room knew that they'd just seen a hit.

With this being the first official production since the merger of Henley Street and Richmond Shakespeare, it's now pretty obvious what a brilliant move that was.

I can't wait for word to get around about what a must-see this production is for Fall.

I'll just sit back nonchalantly and say, yea, I was there preview night, with both a male and female date.

Pretty Oscar Wilde-like, no?

And, just for the record, this ripe woman's favorite line of dialogue?

Oh, I don't think I would care to catch a sensible man. I shouldn't know what to talk to him about.

I mean that earnestly.

Got It

Just to be clear, I have nothing at all against being happy.

After a long, busy day helping a favorite Fan resident thrift and decorate her guest room, I came home to learn that my planned cultural partner was bowing out.

Quick! Who do you call when it's 45 minutes to curtain call?

I caught her as she was about to make coq au vin and lured her away with the promise of theater.

Some nerds are so easy.

This afternoon I'd scored an adorable high-waisted floral skirt while thrifting and put that on to set the tone for Saturday night.

During a stop at Kroger on my way to pick her up, I got a double-take from a girl as I breezed through the produce section.

"Were you in Diversity Thrift today?" she asked, pointing at me and my skirt.

Were you behind the counter at Diversity, I inquired.

"Skirt looks good!" she enthused with a nod.

Every Saturday night should start with a compliment.

A few minutes later when my arms were full of unwieldy fruit, I heard a voice behind me.

It was a Kroger employee, helpfully bringing me a basket. "Here you go!" the guy said.

In all my bazillion trips to Kroger, I can't remember anyone ever noticing my hands were full and bringing me a basket.

Score 2 for the skirt.

My skirt and I went to fetch my girlfriend and head to Centenary United Methodist Church on Grace Street where Henley Street and African American Repertory Theater were doing a staged reading of "Sunset Limited."

I knew nothing about the play except that it was the winner of the National Book Award and National Book Critics' Circle Award.

Well, and that the Sunset Limited was a train that went between New Orleans and Los Angeles

It would have been enough but upon arrival, I also learned that they had cookies, lots of cookies.

Saturday night's alright for munching.

We found second row seats and settled in a for a play about two people who only met because one was ready to die.

"If it ain't got the lingering scent of divinity, I ain't interested," said the devout one.

"People stopped believing in books, music and art," bemoaned the atheist one.

The set was simple and perfect: a wooden table and two chairs, framed by perpendicular pews with stained glass windows above.

"What do you have against being happy?" asked the believer.

"It's contrary to the human condition," shot back the non-believer.

Despite being a reading, the actors moved about quite a bit and railed at each other with periodic glances down at the scripts in hand.

Although they couldn't have had much time for rehearsals, actors Daniel Moore and DL Hopkins kept up the intensity of the philosophical discussion that made up the play.

I was especially taken by how the play began, with compelling, full-on confrontational discussion going on with the audience completely unaware of what had brought us to this moment.

The intellectual pull of trying to figure out what had happened prior was very seductive.

As a card-carrying heathen, I related on many levels to the character who had no use for religion, although I don't think a lack of belief necessarily sends one into a downward spiral that ends in suicidal thoughts.

It was much harder for me to relate to the evangelical character, except in his devotion to saving the other man from himself.

"Sometimes people don't know what they want 'till they get it," he wisely says.

Amen, says I.

In lieu of staying for the talkback, Friend and I headed across the street to Pasture to have our own dissection of the play and enjoy some refreshment.

We barely made it to the back of the bar in search of seats before running into some favorite Amuse staffers, who helpfully told us about tonight's special on Spanish bubbles before giving my cute skirt its due.

Then they departed for Brown's Island to hear Toots and the Maytals and dance to reggae, while we finally had a shot at some bar stools.

Before I could sit down, I ran into a restaurant owner, all dressed up pretty and uncharacteristically out on a Saturday night, sharing a drink with a cheese monger and her bearded hubby.

Lots of people were coming in from the "Single in the City Bachelor/Bachelorette Auction" at CenterStage, never an option for me because of its cost (not that it's not a worthy cause).

There was talk of new restaurants - Dynamo, the Well- before I made it to our seats and the possibility of a light meal.

Muscanti Cava and Frito pie more than did the trick for me, especially after a first course of cookies at the play, while my lovely companion did Cava with pork and Chorizo meatballs the size of, well, big.

And flavorful, just for the record, especially with grits underneath.

During our talkback with each other about the points raised in the play, we decided our heathen credentials were in danger of being revoked because we don't feel the despair typically required of black souls like us.

How can we go through the world so damn happy when we should, in theory, be wringing our hands about the hopelessness of it all?

I can't answer for my friend, but personally, all it takes to keep me satisfied is the occasional $3.25 cute flowered skirt, a thought-provoking play and good conversation.

Like the evangelical pointed out, sometimes people don't know what they want till they get it.

Sounds pretty hopeful to me.