Love, Chaos, and Dinner

Yesterday was my birthday -- thank you -- and it featured many of the same things I've come to look forward to every October first. It begins with a pre-dawn wakeup so I can have breakfast with Kristin before she goes to work, then moves on to a crusty-eyed opening of gifts that I'm too asleep to show proper appreciation for. The day consists primarily of me doing a whole lot of nothing, and always culminates with a giant slab of marzipan-covered raspberry and cream layer cake from Nielsen's Bakery in Seattle. This is my seventh birthday on the west coast and that cake has been the star attraction at every one of them -- we even brought it on an overnight mountain biking trip in 2005.

So yesterday was a fine day spent doing a little bit of work, some research for our RTW trip, and playing plenty of Pure. Kristin had gotten me a 16-year old bottle of Scotch and the book, "The Long Walk" by Slavomir Rawicz for gifts. I had never heard of the book, originally published in 1956, but it's a first-person account of Slavomir's flight across thousands of miles on foot from a Siberian labor camp in 1940. It sounds incredible and came highly recommended, she tells me.

But that wasn't all she had planned. Unbeknownst to me, she had also arranged for us to go to Teatro Zinzanni with friends of ours. The best way to describe Teatro Zinzanni is that it's a dinner-theatre with a heavy dose of audience participation (or, in my case molestation, but more about that later) and some impressive Cirque du Soleil-styled acrobatics. I had always wanted to check it out, but for one reason (the cost) or another (didn't want to go alone) we never did. In a word, it was fantastic and I'm really glad we went.

For starters, the food was fantastic. I'm told famed Seattle chef Tom Douglas designed the menu and every piece of the five-course meal was fantastic. Perfect serving size, excellent choice of paired wines and beers, and great service. You can see last night's menu right here -- I had the tuna. So the food was great, but I really need to back up and describe the setting. We're in a circular dining room with a luxurious high-brow "circus" feel to it. I know that makes no sense, but if you imagine velvet instead of vinyl and feather boas and masks instead of bulbous noses and suspenders, you should get the gist. The performance took place right in the center of the dining room floor, within feet of the tables and everyone is seated in a circle around the room so that they're facing the center.

Me, Kristin, Katrina, and Allan

Our table was on one of the aisles, right near one of the ramps leading "backstage". I was seated on the end which meant that I was continuously receiving attention from the performers and service staff (performers in their own right, to an extent) as they walked by.

We were there for the show "Quest for a Queendom" which featured a number of comedic performers and acrobatists from around the world and, also quite the Queen from the Seattle area as well. There was a fair bit of audience participation involved as the Queen's flamboyant tranny of a man-servant set out to find a new consort for the Queen. Later in the night, the cross-dressing Manchester decided he would become Queen -- and he chose me to be his new conquest. Earlier in the night he had stopped alongside our table, unbuttoned my shirt and proceed to rub my chest hair. I was a good sport so I guess he figured he'd be able to use me later in the show.

And used me he did.

I was center-stage for at least fifteen minutes, being slowly, deliberately, prodded, poked, and treated like the slab of man-meat Manchester was looking for. And little by little, he transferred his costume to me. First the frilly lace fan. Then the enormous 15-pound wig/hat. Then the enormous ballroom dress. Lastly some makeup. The audience was howling. Kristin was doubled-over laughing as hard as she ever did in her life. Manchester had unbuttoned my shirt, pulled the shoulders down over my arms and paraded me in a circle while rubbing my chest and grabbing my ass. What could I do but play along and have fun? So I gave him seductive glances, I held his hand, and when beckoned near, I ran as daintly as I could without spilling the hat, and leapt into his arms. It went on for a while and I even got to make some jokes that he'd repeat in the microphone. Each one got a huge laugh and I'm pretty sure they were laughing both at me and with me. Hell, I was laughing at me too.

Finally, Manchester and I were given the Queen's blessing and permitted to elope. We drank celebratory glasses of wine, arm in arm with the Queen, then paraded off stage to where a photo was taken of me, the Queen and Manchester. I then got to go back on stage again and take a couple of bows. Upon being instructed to bow towards my wife, Manchester took the opportunity to get in one more solid two-handed squeeze of my ass.

Come for the food, stay for the sodomy.

I'm going to regret this for years, but here's a look at what these heathens did to me.

Queen, Queen, and Queen

In spite of the abuse I had taken, we had a fantastic time and I highly recommend Teatro Zinzanni to anyone who doesn't mind a bit of risque humor. It's definitely not a place that's very kid-friendly and you should dress up a bit for it. But if you have a special occasion coming up, and have plenty of room on your Visa, then get reservations and enjoy. The show was well-choreographed with dinner service and we were in the theatre for 4 full hours of entertainment (absolutely fantastic singing and music by the way) and food. When you factor in the five-course meal and entertainment and the length of time you're there, the $100/pp charge is actually quite a good deal. On the other hand, the photos, wine, beer, and mixed drinks hit our foursome for an additional $240 so consider yourself warned.