I attended a very fine spectacle last Saturday, as I made my way to
Café Cléopâtre for an evening of burlesque performances - expertly timed with my finishing Season Two of
Boardwalk Empire right before - one in which every performance was a crescendo of intensity and showmanship, culminating with the evening's headliner,
Velvet La Touche.
The pin-up and glamour model made her best impression of a 1950s oblivious housewife mixed with 1990s opioid-pill addict pretend-happy lady who turned a kitchen scene into a bloodbath, and it was the best five minutes of my year so far.
Prior to that, the record belonged to the moment when I opened an envelope with my name on it that was waiting for me at the door... containing this:
That, folks, is how you turn a curious bystander into a fan.
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