My Halloween costume was apparently a premonition; of sorts. We’ll get to that, but first things first.
On Saturday night, a few of us abandoned the district for the greener sprawls of Kensington, MD. It was the last night of a stage production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Patrick was both stage manager and videographer.
We almost didn’t make it. We were all 300% sure that we were going to a) die or b) live the actual movie as we stumbled across a creepy castle in the wilderness. With Google Maps on a Blackberry and two iPhones, we found ourselves looking for a street that didn’t exist, in a dark parking lot, trapped on a no-outlet street and followed by a minivan.
Verdict? Google: you know nothing about Kensington, MD.
Once we actually got there, though, it was good — seamless video integration and full commitment by the actors. We proudly sauntered in with a respectable collective load of RHPS experience. None of us were show-virgins, which was sweet because some productions will mark a Rocky Horror virgin for easy cast access during the performance and then our fate could’ve been in the hands of alien transvestites.
When the show was over, I couldn’t help but think a few things:
1. I would like some Firefly vodka — the beverage of champions.
2. We should buy all 22 chapters of R. Kelly’s Trapped in the Closet.
3. Haven’t seen that much simulated sex since the mansion-cult-orgy scenes in Eyes Wide Shut.
4. I wish I hadn’t watched all that sex while sitting near 8 year-old children.
Let’s talk about those last two, shall we? Cool.
It was a lot of humping. Everybody got humped. Everybody humped somebody. It was also a lot of groping. Everybody got groped. Everybody groped somebody. I realized I would never be an actor. To not “show and tell” what it feels like when your parts and accessories are being worked over like a project on a tool bench is a talent with which some people are, clearly, just born.
Given all of that, it was weird that we were sitting in the crowd with at least 4 children. Children. Not kids; I call peers “kids.” I mean children; as in people who had very recently spent time in a womb.
Remember how Dave Chappelle would scream, “Better not bring your kids?” Yeah. Saturday night was like that. Great entertainment, we laughed a lot, but you weren’t supposed to bring your children.
They were there, seated two rows in front of us, for all of the cursing, dry-banging, face-sitting and crotch exploration. The only scene they missed was the beginning of the second act. Apparently, their guardian knew what was coming and decided that the tossing of used condoms was the line he couldn’t cross while holding the hands of 8 year-olds.
And we’re four, liberally-minded kids. But seeing them see all of that? Made us feel like the FCC did when Janet Jackson’s breast appeared at the Super Bowl. It made me feel like a natural Mormon, not just someone who played one on Halloween night. Somebody guessed that maybe they weren’t kids but four Benjamin Buttons, because the idea of us sitting in the midst of not one but four reverse-livers was less creepy.
Miss Bianca joked that it should make for an awesome show and tell at school this week. There will be seven levels of awkward when ‘lil Bobby comes in with the ball gag he found in his dad’s sock drawer and Susie uses arts and crafts time to make three clay figurines that are definitely not playing leapfrog.
Hahaha this sounds like the time my parents thought it would be a good idea for my little sister and I to watch Animal House with them. And Election. And Step-Brothers. Hmm… theme in my family…
It completely confuses me and weirds me out when kids – sorry, children – are out of context. A grocery store, a school, a playground — all perfectly normal places to see children. But a stage production of RHPS? Unexpected.
So unexpected. We’d laugh and then wonder if the children got the joke, too.
Dude. I ran a children’s summer day camp for 5 summers and I can’t even tell you how floored I was by some of the shit the kids knew. Like.. NOT OKAY.
Now we know how they learn it. It’s not the internet’s fault after all.
People bring kids to the weirdest things these days. It’s like there are no babysitters in the world anymore. Although, I have to admit, this is the most egregious error of parenting I’ve heard of in a long time.
Babysitters are apparently so ten years ago.
“Mommy, what’s this rubber, elastic thing and why are they bouncing up and down like that?”
I guess this is one way of teaching kids about sex?
It’s one way. One weird, weird, weird way.
wow. i get bent out of shape when i see young children at R rated movies late at night – don’t these kids have BEDTIMES? – but i’d have felt EXTRA crotchety-old-lady-ish at RHPS. NO. NO NO NO. NOT APPROPRIATE.
Bedtimes. Apparently RHPS was their bedtime story.
Sitting near children at something like that would have me super uncomfortable, too. Possibly to the point of censoring my reactions to the show.
Also, your mentioning Eyes Wide Shut just gave me horrible flashbacks to watching it. I was way too young to see that.
Right? We weren’t sure how to react. It censored us a little.
they severely dimished my enjoyment of the lusty scenes. but it was a blast none the less!
Oh, yeah. Still totally worth it.
I am appalled by what I see parents do. A lot. Ticks me off.
If they wanted their kids there, they wanted their kids there. It just, you know, was discomforting.
As someone who spent 12+ years of her life being a better parent to other people’s children than they would ever be, I’m pretty sure I would have walked up to those people and asked them what the hell they were doing. I would say I can’t believe this, but I totally can.
I would bet large sums of money that they’re theory was “they won’t understand what’s going on anyway.” Parents frequently SERIOUSLY underestimate how smart children are.
They so do. And they remember virtually everything before their drinking years begin.
Some people are so irresponsible! TRHPS is the LAST thing anyone under 16 should be able to see live!
They were almost babies…
That is as awkward as watching a heated sex scene movie w/ your parents. I mean, we’re all adults but I still squirm because all I can think about is “oh yeah, that’s hot” and all I can imagine my parents thinking is “Oh yeah, we did it last night and it was hot.” AWKWARD
I think that is one of the best advantages of my parents being disappointed.
This is the kind of thing that makes me think that more smart people need to procreate to balance all of this rampant asshattery.
“Been around the world and found that only people stupid are breeding.” — Harvey Danger
Thanks for coming to the show f.B! Also thanks for making the post about humping and not about my costume.
Thanks for the invite. And I would never insult someone in costume.
Some people should not be allowed to have children. Really. I know it is a crazy idea, absolutely unrealistic and not quite politically correct, but sometimes I wonder if it would be possible to develop a test that people can complete before being allowed to reproduce.
Somewhat unfortunately, we have decided that the test is “How not to use birth control.”
Is there really 22 chapters of trapped in the closet? Because that is ridiculous.
Abso. Lutely.
Make this happen.
How did this get into spam? Anyway. Yes.