Saturday night I went on a date with Slash, a guy my friend Jess introduced me to at her Halloween party this year. I went as Wonder Woman (and won “Funniest Costume”) and he went as Slash, the biggest badass of guitar licks (also known as “the guy who wears a tophat and has crazy black curly hair in Guns ’n Roses”).
After a short car ride listening to Vampire Weekend (5 stars), we ended up at The Bookstore in Bethlehem. I would like to thank Jess and/or Jess’ roommate Keri for either suggesting this place, or simply encouraging the idea because I loved it despite the unfortunate series of events.
The Bookstore, a 1920s speakeasy, had themed drinks of the era like Manhattans and Sidecars, as well as establishment concoctions with words like “swizzle” and “fizz” in their names. Ingredients included liquors such as gin, absinthe, rye, vermouth, frothed egg white, bitters, and all arrived with fruit garnishes skewered on toothpicks.
The actual venue was everything a classy date should be (my options were “casual” and “classy” and I opted for classy to prove I’m not always in costume). The ceiling was low, the walls were lined with dark-stained wooden bookshelves and hardback books with fabric covers and spines. To further enhance the dark, intimate ambiance, there was a gas lamp on each table.
We grabbed seats at the bar and perused the menu, a hardback book with cocktails, beers, desserts, and entrees listed and pasted into the book. As we sipped our drinks, Slash and I talked about nothing/everything while staring at a large glass jug of saffron-flavored hardboiled eggs.
At this point, the 1920s jazz band started setting up their clarinet, alto saxophone, and bass saxophone. As a former band nerd (clarinet and bass clarinet), I enjoy seeing people play instruments well and with a love that I never had. Dressed to entertain, they wore 3- and 4-piece suits with wide lapels, suspenders, wide ties, two-tone shoes, and well-oiled hairdos (like Squirrel Nut Zippers, but less flashy and annoying). Rather than a microphone, the lead singer had an old-time megaphone with a handle and also played the melodica (note: this was not the lead singer, although in retrospect it does look painful).
We ordered another round while I soaked in the music, the place, the drinks, and my date. As we listened to the fourth or fifth song, my date told me about being a waiter and nearly having to give the Heimlich Maneuver to a choking patron. And I thought, “Well he’s handy to have around!”
A few minutes after that, the lead singer clutched his eye and dropped to the floor. The entire place fell silent as we looked to each other, thinking, “What the…Ohmygod…” The singer quickly regained consciousness and repeated, “I’m ok….I’m ok…” to the crowd, or maybe just to reassure himself. He got up, dusted himself off and said, “….ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR….” and the band picked up where they left off to everyone’s amazement.
After thanking us and saying, “Well, the show must go on!” he announced they’d take a break to get some air. My date noted that the guy had been sweating pretty much since they started, but I hadn’t noticed since I sweat like a plowhorse on a 77-degree day and think it’s normal.
Shortly thereafter, we decided to get the check before a fullout aneurysm happened. While waiting, I heard a kerfuffle near the stage area and happened to notice a blind man in 1920s dress (as the night went on, more and more people showed up dressed in era-appropriate clothing). Apparently, he had knocked over one of the gas lanterns with his cane and may have started a small fire.
Needless to say, the evening was definitely memorable! A+ on entertainment!
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