The sound of my steps echoed against the enormous mirrored walls of the lobby as I paced back and forth waiting for her to descend. She was a little late, which I kind of expected, but I had snuck into the lobby just as someone else had left, and enough time had passed that I was beginning to question how I would be leaving that purgatory between the door of the elevator, and the one that opened to the street. (If I had, for whatever reason, gone in the wrong place) Luckily, before panic had actually set in, I saw the elevator on its way. Soon after, I saw a bunch of dreadlocks wrapped in a blue bandana, herself in a blue silk slip, and her feet in brown leather boots. She was wearing a jacket as well, which was for the better, because I might have been slightly disconcerted otherwise. Although her appearance was a bit unorthodox, she did look nice, and she was definitely Nicki; meaning that her outfit, coupled with her personality, was utterly endearing.
We walked and walked until we reached the theatre, where I then informed her of what we were about to see. She was very surprised, excited and appreciative. There was a host of people standing about waiting for the gate to open. As we looked around we noticed a table with champagne and she commented that it probably cost a “shit-ton”. It was then that I could not help but be reminded of Richard Gere and Julia Roberts when they went to see La Traviata.
This was taken as we were leaving. They told us that cameras weren't allowed.
We gave the man our tickets and were led to our seats. I hadn’t realized just how close our seats were, and I was again taken aback by the sheer grandeur of the theatre.
Beautiful Curves
It wasn’t long after being seated that people began to pour in and the balconies became full. Then it went dark, the stage lit up, and out walked Siberian Virtuosi, a string orchestra from Russia. Of course there are no words that could even begin to describe how amazing, how surreal, how clear and pure and precise and just… beautiful the music was; or how the musicians’ passion and commitment and dedication all emanated from the stage and covered each and every one of us. I think that if someone thinks they do not like classical music, they should rethink their thoughts, because they are most certainly under the wrong impression.
After the concert, we went to Señor Mings, a Japanese restaurant overlooking the Parana River. In doing research for dinner beforehand, I had found that there was a random cartoon zombie on the dessert menu of this particular restaurant, which I took as a sign that this was the place to go, because in the way that some people are obsessed with lighthouses, or pigs, or sunflowers, or unicorns; Nicki loves zombies. But anyway, the atmosphere of the restaurant was serene, and we had a very nice dinner there. After we were full of wine, sushi, and chocolate, it was about time to call it a night, especially considering that we had class at 9:00 in the morning. I was very relaxed and ready for bed, but somehow we had worked ourselves into an existential debate, and well, let’s just say we didn’t come to a satisfying conclusion. We agreed to disagree for the time being, and I took her home. All in all, it was a very relaxing, wonderfully pleasant night.
Dessert Zombie
However, as luck would have it, for the ride home I happened to get the most talkative taxi driver in the history of taxi drivers, who proceeded to tell me his life story, along with the life stories of virtually all of his family members. At this point I can barely keep my eyes open (I hadn’t had a chance to nap at all that day) and he keeps looking back at me for responses, and I don’t want to be rude, so I comply with a “You don’t say!” or “Really?” or any variations of the sort. Actually, I must say the guy was very nice, and sincere, and his stories were actually unique and interesting, but sometimes you just feel like telling them, “Just wake me up when we get there.”
