Chewing the fat with Slim Bob Slim

Nick Anderson and Seth Reichgott, AKA, Slim Bob Slim and Nickel.

Nick Anderson and Seth Reichgott, AKA, Slim Bob Slim and Nickel.

On Tuesday night, Aurora and I visited the fine establishment that is L’etage to watch our good friend Seth Reichgott (AKA Slim Bob Slim) perform his ukulations.  He happened to be accompanied by talented bassist Nick Anderson (AKA Nickel), and together, they performed a plethora of “old-timey” numbers such as Take on Me, Bette Davis Eyes, and Hungry Like the Wolf.  The gods of Vaudeville would be proud, to say nothing of Duran Duran.

Anticipation.

Anticipation.

For anyone who’s never been to L’etage, you need to do something to correct that.  I’ve seen a few shows there, including some interesting burlesque, and the venue is downright swanky.  No other word, really.  The place is decorated in French style, somewhere between the Belle Epoch and the roaring twenties.  Don’t question it.  They mix a mean vesper.

And the restaurant downstairs (Beau Monde) is top notch.  Most of it is crepe-based, so for instance, I indulged in a Beef Bourguignon, stuffed inside of a crepe, which I suppose isn’t very summery.  Don’t judge me!  They had vespers!

Performers Seth Reichgott and Nick Anderson and playwright Nicholas Wardigo.

Performers Seth Reichgott and Nick Anderson and playwright Nicholas Wardigo.

Also, Aurora and I did something brilliant.  Before the show, we enjoyed cocktails, soup, and appetizers.  Then (after paying), we wandered upstairs to watch the show over another couple of cocktails (sharing one with the performers, of course).  And then, we wandered back downstairs to order wine, our entree, and dessert.  That’s right…our dinner had an intermission.

Curiously, our kind waitress (Hi, Melissa!) informed us that she never had another customer do such a thing.  Which seems ludicrous.  I mean, it’s such an obvious thing to do, especially since Seth performed a little early (okay, 7:30 isn’t insanely early, but you hear what I’m saying).  And while it’s true that I’m writing this partly to brag, I also want to do my best to ensure that others follow in my footsteps.  If more people take dinners with intermissions (preferably seasoned with old-timey ukulele playing), we’ll have a happier society overall.  So come on, people!  Do your part!

You’re welcome.

An American playwright in his natural habitat.

An American playwright in his natural habitat.

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