This weekend, I went to the movies with a super hot date to see Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, a perfect, frothy, dessert-like movie that is fun, full of forties dialogue and timing and beautiful costume and art deco furniture.
(To the lover of such movies as The Philadelphia Story and His Girl Friday (a film I plan to write about quite soon) go and see this one. Yes, I mean you. Go now. )
It was, as Miss Pettigrew herself might say, simply a delightful film.
From there, instead taking myself home after the film, I decided that like Miss Pettigrew, I was to live for the evening.
My date and I found ourselves with our favorite lovely bartender and his magical martinis. It just might be my new favorite drink. Miss Pettigrew would certainly agree. But unlike Miss Pettigrew, I ate tacos and then had some calamari. I was indeed hungry and ate pretty much everything. If I hadn't, I'd be worse off today, I do imagine.
Well after the food and the martinis I found myself at another establishment enjoying the run of the place with the blessing of the owner. He was even gracious enough to locked our coats away in a special closet! What fun! I got to experience a superfun Indian dance party, a hip hop night and lesbian night all in one place.
I experienced many cultures. And danced through it all--though not as much as my super hot date as I was too full of calamari and tacos. I know. Weird combination.
While I am not a lesbian and can't judge perfectly, I must say with a great deal of confidence that the ladies attending the function were very attractive and they had the best music. And it was a hoot to see a few confused gentlemen wandering through that section of the establishment.
"Why doesn't anyone like me?" "Hello? Me!"
Well, needless to say, I had a fun time, but was not able to be as productive this day as I should have been. But perhaps I did need a lie-in and a rest.
So Miss Pettigrew and I lived for a day.