My husband surprised me with tickets to a show at the Moulin Rouge, and an 11:00 p.m. showing at that. Normally waaaaaay past the bedtime for this Northwest girl, but for some ridiculous reason, this city gives you an energy you never thought you had in your core. So we set out about 8:30 last night for dinner at Le Sanglier Bleu and an evening show. And I didn’t take a single picture of my food. Shocking.
The first funny thing was making three online reservations for the restaurant, which I had to follow with an apologetic email that I actually only needed ONE. The staff laughed a bit when we arrived.
The next funny thing was our seating at the show, just on the edge of the stage where we had to closest-ever view of about one hundred titties. Yes, I said that. Decked-out and peeking through crystals in the opening number, and then later all-out exposed. It made me squirm a little, but mostly it created at atmosphere of edginess. You’re at a Burlesque show! It’s midnight! It’s sexy! Have more wine!
And more…the floor recedes and makes way for a tank full of….wait for it….wait for it…. Pythons!!!!! And a woman sacrificially dives in! Oh, my god.
Feathers and thongs and lace stockings and headpieces. And titties. Lots of titties.
That’s all I have to say.