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| ... A Toast...to a new world of Candy and Monsters... | ||
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2.20.2004 | |
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Marrakesh part 3: 3D - A New Dimension In Terror... con't from previous post...Pulling back the red curtain revealed not a man operating clunky controls, but a gi-normous room with extraordinarily high ceilings, beautiful murals and hand-carved wooden trim running along the walls - and GUNS affixed above our heads! (Well, we did see a picture of George W. Bush in the lobby) They were merely decorative - or so I assumed. Who's to say that the waiters don't get a little testy when a patron doesn't pay up? Cash only, no less? Anyhow, we were escorted to our love-in couches, where we huddled around a small coffee table about the size of a car tire. A man in a turban came over and tried to offer us memberships to the Shriners - wait, wait - he just poured lukewarm water over our hands to wash them. See, in Marrakesh "utensils" was uttered the same day that "reservations" was. The draw to Marrakesh is obviously the decor, but also the fact that they provide to you a SEVEN course meal! Course 1: bread along with a dressing-topped vegetable medley. Hey, it's like salad! Course 2: humungoid pastry with beautiful powdered sugar sprinkled lovingly on top - it looked like a tremendous jelly doughnut! Only (you already know what's coming) there's no jelly at Marrakesh - our pastries are filled with CHICKEN!!! (needless to say, course 2 sat there with its false exterior and sad, cold chicken heart for a long while) During the long cold chicken winter between courses 2 and three, a young woman came out, and stood atop a hastily but sturdily constructed stage. At first, she looking very much so like a hippie, I was unimpressed. Suddenly music came from the war horns of Bose and the girl began gyrating - this was the belly dancing promised to all diners who walk through the (remember, tiny) door! The girl did a fine job, twirling a diaphanous veil around her like swirling mists in so many video games and Danzig videos. But then - the coup de grace - she perched a sword atop her head, and continued the dance! There was much gasping and a smattering of applause. Once the girl had finished her gyrations, she leapt off the stage, and ran to the back of the restaurant where (I'm told) she hung out at the bar the rest of the night. Immediately I'm wondering whether or not she has a groove in her skull that the sword just fits into. Probably not, but you never know. By this time the third course had stopped by our table - the poultry souffle having been mercifully removed. Course 3: a chicken. Not chicken cut up into tasty pieces, not chicken soup, not even chicken sandwiches. This was an entire (ok, it was actually a half) bird, cooked. That we ate with our fingers. No - we devoured it! The next time someone refers to some "damn tasty chicken" I will know exactly what they mean. The next course, we were informed, was a choice between beef, or lamb. The choice was tough - the waiter assured us he could bring a little of both, even though they couldn't be cooked at the same time. This sentence took roughly 15 minutes to translate, but we finally decided - YES! Course 4: Lamb. Hey, what happened to the beef?! Scarcely more than two bites had been tasted of the lamb, and any cattle products were severely forgotten. For days. This was some damn tasty lamb! Course 5: I believe but I'm not certain that it was couscous or something. Believe me for certain when I say it was lame and obviously forgettable. Course 6: Fruit and life-endangering shelled nuts. Nuts flying into eyes, into hair, dangerously close to flying into other nuts. Also good. Course 7: By this time, we had settled down - what with our 3 or so bottles of wine and our 6 courses - we were stuffed. Fortunately, the lords of Marrakesh saw fit to bring us just one more course - tea and crumpets. No, really - that's pretty much what it was. Also very good. I am satiated. The real fun of the evening came in trying to figure out how in the hell much we owed based on a bill that included absolutely zero legible characters - except for the final total. Hm. And it's cash-only, as well. Cash only! Whoever heard of that?! Luckily, the guardians of Marrakesh had provided us with an indigenous ATM, waaay at the back of the restaurant. Bet they're making a killing off of this cash only thing. Long night, but we made it out alive, and we were happy and laughing, and I think every single person had the most fun they've had in a long time. I especially liked the musical chairs we played all night. We'll be going back. Posted by sarcophage @ 4:35:00 PM Add or check out a |
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Marrakesh part 2: the entrance. So where did I leave off? Oh yeah, we hadn't even gotten there yet.Looking across the street from "Ol' Bob's House o' Fixits fer jalopies" the group notices a throng of people standing outside what is a rather nondescript concrete building. Us: "That can't possibly be the place, can it?" [Also] Us: "Naah, that looks like a rave or some hot club or something." Us Again: "Well it's the only lit place on the block - let's check it out!" So we run/walk/slip/fall/dirty ourselves getting across the street to what could just as likely as not be a meat-packing plant. Someone notices on the building a line of script looking suspiciously like the "arabian" font that used to come standard on macs. Someone else notices a tiny - and by tiny I mean really small - placard underneath that says "Marrakesh." We found it! We manage to muscle our way into the front of the line like professional Italian hired help (actually most of the people at this point were leaving, and were waiting for their cars). Minutes pass. We look at each other repeatedly, alternating between "laughing off the cold" and boring holes into each others eyes, as if that would somehow magically create warmth from intensity. I'm sure I complained a few times. Every so often after we arrived, a small woman who looked more than a little bit like Sharon Osbourne would pop her head outside a tiny - and by tiny I mean really REALLY small - door, and clear a path for people to exit the restaurant. Well, actually she did that maybe twice, and the rest of the time, she'd just poke her head out, look around at everyone, and then SLAM! the door shut before anyone could step through. I am certain that fingers were lost and later served during the "lamb" course. I was reminded, again, more than a little bit of the Emerald City Gate scene from the Wizard of Oz. The woman may have even had a comparable moustache. At one point during these peeks from behind the mystical door, a woman who had just arrived jumped to the front of the line, fairly waving a small child in front of her, yelling "Let me in!! I have a CHIIIIIIILD!!" Sophie's Choice this was not. SLAM! I laughed pretty loudly right at this newcomer - she was not amused. Luckily, the door keeper deserved more of her ire, as the woman-with-child uttered "Bitch" not-so-much under her breath. Hours passed - I grew a beard, and finally the door opened long enough for ... 6 people to walk out. By this time the entire army of diners were yelling about how they should be allowed in immediately because they had "reservations." (ours had long since passed) But HA! "Reservations" mean nothing to the proprieters of Marrakesh! It is merely a word that mortals had invented to placate our desire to feel important - reservations are meaningless when you are in the world of Marrakesh! Finally, almost literally a full hour after our 9:00 reservations, we were escorted through the tiny door (and by tiny I mean...nevermind...), through red curtained passage to our thrones of gold and our crowns of platinum. Ok, not really - but we did get to sit on a pretty swank couch. That was nice. Moron [sic] this later. Posted by sarcophage @ 9:59:00 AM Add or check out a |
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2.10.2004 | |
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Marrakesh: The only place Belloq can sell the piece. Marrakesh. He needs $2000 dollars, and he can get it back.Recently, on one of the most fast-paced, whirlwind weekends I've ever experienced, we had several major events: A very good friend came to town. Some other people who were already in town became friends. We spent a LOT of money. I ate 3 consecutive meals in less than 25 minutes, and Everybody ELSE ate a meal at MY pace for once! The following is a story in which all the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Nobody actually did anything that bad this night, but you know, you can never be too careful. Dateline: Saturday January 31, 9pm. Destination: Downtown DC, "little Morocco" The collection of all parties was confusing but flexible, as is tradition. We walked from the subway, cellphones being frantically dialed to connect with at least one of the other members of the "B" group. We were supposed to meet at the subway exit. Problem. There's two exits. I believe that group A walked out one exit, and group B (probably arriving at almost the exact same time) walked out the other. No problem - just solve that with a couple of minutes of worrying on my part, and a ridiculously close proximity cellphone connection which somehow still managed to sound like the interior of a dog's rectum. Thanks, Cingular! Once we made our way around the corner of 7th street in DC, we arrived at what looked to be one of the most run-down streets in the district. Even creepier, there was not a single soul to be seen on the street. A few steps further revealed what I hoped to be a non-operational car repair place, given its incredible state of decay and disarray. A quick glance to the "OPEN" sign still hanging in the window helped neither to confirm nor deny this. Curious. (part 2 to come) Posted by sarcophage @ 5:52:00 PM Add or check out a |
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2.09.2004 | |
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The Cheerleader of Frankenstein?? Yes, the blog drought ends today. Though I'm still up on my wife Monika for sheer number of posts, I been slackin'.I recently read a rumor that Universal Pictures (that once-great studio who brought you Frankenstein, the Wolf Man, and the Mummy) are actually debating a remake of the very movie which gave this blog its title - the Bride of Frankenstein. Unfortunately, this time the remake affects a teenage girl. Who wakes up in high school from dreams of being buried alive, being sewn together, as well as generally being dead. She comes to realize (through hypnotherapy) that she actually WAS dead, and has been constructed from parts of other folks. I'm sure her limbs will at some point attempt to carry her back to their rightful owners. I actually think this is a good idea for a movie - mixing parts of "Dead Again" (check the imdb) with Return of the Living Dead. I can only imagine they will attempt to make this a horror-comedy, as Return of the Living Dead was. My one issue - WHYYYYYYYYY do they need to call it "Bride of Frankenstein" ?!?!! It doesn't seem to have anything to do with a doctor obsessed with recreating life, who creates a monster and then must create her a mate. I'm sure they could work that in, but still... yikes. I have hopes that maybe they'll just change the title and get a workable movie out of it. We shall see, eh? Posted by sarcophage @ 10:05:00 AM Add or check out a |
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