me + absinthe = rock star!

Don't worry mom, I'm not actually drinking Absinthe. It happens to be a show, running in the Spiegeltent (by the South Street Seaport) for the summer. And it's absolutely one of the coolest experiences I've had in a long time!

First off, the Spiegeltent itself is a fantastic creation. It's half merry-go-round, half tent, half café and half church. (see? Already it's twice the fun!) It's got a boardwalk-y feel to it, being situated on Pier 16, and when the doors are open, you get that slight fishy/harbory funk. Around the edges of the tent are small mirrored panels, stained glass windows and wooden folding chairs for the audience. In the center, there's a small, round, raised platform, on which a majority of the acts take place.

I won't tell you about all the acts, because some of them are so amazing in part because you aren't expecting them. I will, however, tell you about a) the one that went wrong, b) the one that involved me and c) a vague outline of something that defies even the best of writing (let alone the excited ramblings of a chatty girl on a rainy day).

A) Oh Shit! (or the one that went wrong)
According to Justin, who has seen the show three times already (four, by the time this gets posted), and who got us free tickets, the acts change somewhat often. If any given performance of the show contains ten acts, I'd guess there are maybe thirteen acts in the whole repertoire, and they switch it up to give performers nights off. Anyway, the contortionist who started the show when I saw it, was apparently not the regular opening act.

She entered from the ceiling (which was totally cool) and descended on a wire until she came to rest on this bizarre jungle gym-type structure. It was cylindrical in shape, with climbing bars up either side, and a ring on top, where she balanced precariously while flinging her legs over her head and whatnot. (Where most humans have vertebrae, I think this woman has jell-o.) She descended one side of the cylinder, all slithery-like, and we (and by "we" I mean "those of us who are prone to see theatrical disasters coming") noticed a slight detachment of the legs of the right hand side of the cylinder from the ring at the top.

Luckily, a costumed stage hand also noticed that break, and stepped in, to hold the unit together. Which worked... for about a minute. But as soon as she started climbing on the other side of the cylinder, the whole left side (climbing bars and top ring) went tumbling down, and careening into the aisle in the audience. She knocked over a light, landed on her side, and had a small metal jungle-gym come tumbling after. We gasped, the lights went up a bit, and the next act rushed the stage, trying to get us to forget what had happened.

Amazingly, we did. Thanks primarily to the antics of the emcee, a guy called "The Gazillionaire," who was fictitiously footing the bill for the production of Absinthe. He was very funny, and took to harassing the audience -- fluffing up Justin's hair, calling it "Seventies Bush" and then humping his head. (He offered to hump my head, but I politely declined. Then he asked me to touch his crotch, and, well, I did (you had to be there to understand why). When he wanted to see my boobs in return, again, I politely declined. He then called me a pricktease and moved on to pick on someone else.)

B) k8 the rock star (or the part where I'm involved):
One of the acts involved a pair of what can only be described as figure (roller) skaters. They were a couple (Justin says he's 48 and she's 50, but I'd have put them both somewhere in their mid-forties) who did amazing tricks on roller skates. Scarier stuff than you've seen on figure skating, too – he flung her around in circles, with her face mere centimeters from hitting the floor, or tucking one skate of her skates behind his neck, and flinging her around in circles with no hands, while she's doing a split. You know, the stuff we all normally do at home. (un-fucking-believable!)

Anyway, at one point, they were eyeing this nice, long haired short woman behind me, and wanting her to come up on stage as a volunteer. She flatly refused, and they eventually shifted their focus onto me. It took me all of one second to decide to get up there!

I climbed the stairs in the back, had a stage hand remove my sunglasses from the top of my head, and the two skaters wound their arms around mine, while the woman whispered in my ear "keep your arms the way they are and stay as straight as you possibly can." So I did that (which was not hard).

THEN THEY FLIPPED ME UPSIDE DOWN AND WE SPUN AROUND IN CIRCLES!!! It was the most awesome thing! Having had a glass of wine already, opening my eyes proved to be an upsetting idea, so I kept them squeezed shut, and tried to keep my smile from flying off my face into my ears. I can't tell you how many times we went around (ten? A hundred?) but when they put me down, I was very dizzy, and, well, they were on roller skates, so we almost had our own tumbling disaster, trying to keep our balance. (Mind you, I was also in heels!)

Intermission followed not long after, and I was stopped by a number of people, all saying what a trooper I was and what a good sport, and what was it like? One guy came up to me and said that they almost did get to see my boobs after all! I can understand refusing them (especially after a crash in the first act) but come on! How many times in your life have you been flipped upside down and swung around by a couple on roller skates???

Oh, me? Just once.

C) Indescribable beauty, grace and oh-my-godness (yeah, I don't know what else to say about it)
One of the most surprising acts was comprised of two (beautiful) women, who danced and swung and contorted on this square made from metal bars suspended from the ceiling on chains like a chandelier. The way they moved together, and supported each others' weight, and the things they could do… it was gorgeous, it was sexy, it was dangerous, it was jaw dropping. I swear I had to pick mine back up off the floor when it was over.

And, not surprisingly, it was still smiling!