Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Rocky Horror and The Flying Mouse

Rocky Horror Picture Show Logo

Don’t judge me, it was a birthday gift. Two tickets to see Rocky Horror Picture Show playing in a local college town, and an evening in which to relive my wasted youth. What’s not to love?

My BFF (Motto: Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Stupid Things Alone) drove across a few states to be my date. She’s awesome like that. You probably know Rocky Horror Picture Show is the midnight movie du jour. It’s been around for decades and has quite a cult following.


What’s important happened after our evening of absolute leisure. While walking dark city blocks to the parking garage, we met up with a frail-looking octogenarian couple inching their way up the sidewalk with the assistance of a walker. As we attempted to pass by in our telltale glittery be-feathered ensemble, the elderly gentlemen asked, “Did you like that loud show?” We confessed we did. The gentlemen nodded sagely, checking out BFF's feathery bling and said, “Yes? I liked it too.”

BFF and I exchanged a quick look of disbelief. These senior citizens had just been at the Rocky Horror Picture Show? What is the world coming to, and how the heck did they get to the parking garage ahead of us? The tiny, aged Mrs. shot us a serious look and piped up, “It was my first time. I’m not a virgin anymore.” Sweet Pete! She knew the lingo too!


We gifted the Mrs. a sparkly feather boa and our new friends proceeded to regale us with their weekend plans, which in terms of awesome, far exceeded our plans of cake and talking. They also managed to get in front of us in traffic and we ended up reading their wild assortment of revolutionary bumper stickers for a time. Where am I going in this handbasket? I’m ashamed of what I did for a Klondike Bar. Sorry for Driving So Close in Front of You. At Least the War on the Environment is Going Well. Or something like those.

After receiving the seniors have more fun smack down (so not the first time) we amped up our weekend plans. Our friends had mentioned attending an opera, so we googled operas in the state and randomly picked Die Fledermaus, which we deciphered as The Flying Mouse, but was in fact, The Bat. Same difference, right?

While waiting for the opera to begin we amused ourselves by exchanging dares, which basically sounded like, “See that nice older couple? I double dog dare you to go ask if they were at the Rocky Horror Picture Show on Friday night.” So, of course, BFF did, and as karma would have it, they HAD. How fun is that? So don’t tell Dear Hubby, but I hung out with this cute guy for awhile.

With Cute Guy at Die Fledermaus

Sometimes the wind blows you to wonderful places and people, and you even get a refresher on the laughing song. When was the last time you had a weekend worthy of an octogenarian?