Wow. Just...wow.
As anyone reading this blog probably knows, the opening lines of Eloise were the most impactful sentences ever in my life.
"I am Eloise. I am six. I am a city child."
There it was, the sentence that would define me for the rest of my life from the day my mother first read it to me to however old I am when you read this.
I am a city child. It's a physical need to live a city life.
The only problem? I can't really define what that means. I mean...I know it when I'm living it. College? Definitely. The years in Boston during and post divorce? The very definition of city life. Anchorage? Surprisingly, yes. New Orleans? You couldn't help it.
Philly? Occasionally. Pre-COVID, sure. We live half a block from a subway station and it was nothing to jump on the train and head into Center City. Post-COVID, though, it's different. The subway got not so safe. It got even dirtier than it was. It's just...unpleasant...in a deep way. Which means nowadays, we have to drive into downtown, deal with traffic, find parking, pay for parking, walk wherever we're going, then reverse the process. Or, we have to Lyft it both ways, which is no longer a cheap alternative.
Going into Center City for a 20-minute afternoon cafe break or a manicure or even to pick up a bouquet of flowers and wander the streets is a big deal now.
All of which is to say, I don't live as much of a city life as it looks like I would on paper.
Recently, though, My Favorite and I decided to try to change that. So, for our wedding anniversary (Feb 22), we decided we would Do Something City. We've been meaning to get to Fabrika since they opened pre-COVID. We finally got there.
Talk about a fucking city life. It's cabaret, vaudeville, drag show, and circus, all rolled into one amazing evening. It's the kind of place my friends and I used to want to work when we were theatre kids. Hell, I would still take a job on their crew in a heartbeat.
More though, it was the kind of place I have wanted to exist for my whole life.
I pulled out my latex skirt. My Favorite pulled out his favorite jacket. And we were off.
Honestly, we weren't sure what to expect. We've had a lot of almosts over the years. When Fabrika first opened, it was open most nights, had full dinners, and a strict dress code. Now, it's open Thursday–Sunday brunch, brunch is the only real meal they serve (the night shows offer small plates), and the dress code has been relaxed. Such changes rarely bode well.
We ended up at a great table, just two back from the stage.
We ordered food. Pro tip, you don't go for the food. It was better than Sysco by a long shot, but they're no longer a restaurant, and that shows. But guess what? It's enough to keep food in the bellies of people who are drinking and the plates aren't bad. And you don't go for the food.
Service was remarkable. When I mentioned we were both hard of hearing, our server squatted down next to me so he was closer to my ears. When I asked if they did mocktails, the response was "savory and sweet!" When I ordered a light vodka soda, he double-checked if I wanted a light one (less booze) or a tall one (same amount of booze but more mixer). When I confirmed I wanted a light one, I actually got a light one.
Then the show started. Holy fucking shit. The videos are in the next post. Go watch them. Here are the pictures...
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| Wearing my mother and grandmother's pearls. Somehow, I think they would both be pleased. |
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But let's not forget that I did start my theatre life as a techie. So shout out to the booth. Please make note of the person in the vest and (6-fucking-inch) platform heels. Because...
This was the emcee of the night. They told us their name (and I think appropriate pronouns would be he/him, but I don't know for certain; I'm going to go with that though because I'm pretty sure) but My Favorite and I heard it differently. Regardless. This is who an emcee should be. Funny. Outgoing. Engaging. Charismatic and charming. One of the most talented people I have ever had the pleasure of watching.
At one point, he was working the room and came over to us. He laid a hand on my shoulder and asked what brought us out tonight. I suspect he expected something that would indicate curiosity and that feeling of being daring. Instead, I said, "this is our kind of place." And we looked at each other. There was a beat. Another beat. And then he said into his microphone, "This is their kind of place!" And the banter continued. But not before we saw each other. He said "I bet you've seen some shows, too, right? I bet you've seen some shit." All I could do was nod. He asked our ages and used us as an example of how life doesn't end at 30.
We made eye contact one more time before the night ended and exchanged The Nod. It was a lovely moment in time.
This, gentles and ladyfolk, is City Life. It's not the only definition of it. Not by a long shot. But it's definitely up there.
Go watch the videos now. And come visit. I have a place you'll love...
