We're huge (HUGE) Trapped in the Closet fans round these parts. I wrote this after we went to last year's R. Kelly sing-a-long, and I'm sharing it here in honor of today's release of chapters 12-22. It's a big cultural event - the NY Times says so and so do I.
I see an R. Kelly party at our home in the very near future...
I almost forgot to tell you about the Trapped in the Closet Sing-a-Long! I went! And it was fun! It also made me feel old! But in a good way!
We were so glad we're "responsible adults" because when we got there, a full half-hour early, there were people standing in line - in the cold - waiting for a chance to be let in to the SOLD OUT show. I was surprised that a theater would sell out for a midnight-2:00 am show even if was to make fun of R. Kelly. (See? I told you I was old.)
Anyways, we were not about to stand in the cold so we went to a bar. The only bar in Coolidge Corner is a college bar, which was cool - like being 19 all over again - except that I made a tactical mistake. If you're over the age of 25 and find yourself in a "college bar" and you see that they have a "martini menu," ORDER THE BEER! Unless you like your martinis to taste like cough syrup. If that's the case, by all means be my guest and order away. Also, I have found that the size of the martini is inversely correlated to the amount of alcohol in the drink. My glass was, I kid you not, the size of my head.
So, we head back to the theater and I'm disappointingly sober. Then we saw the people in line, and I had to laugh. It was full of Emo kids, all ironic and intellectual looking, except that I called them "slackers" because that's what they were called when I was in college back in 1994 (You guys remember Reality Bites, right?).
But I knew that this night was going to be SO worth the $60 we spent on babysitting when we finally made it inside the theater and the South Park episode on Scientology (watch it here if you've missed it) was playing as the prelude - there's nothing like a quick refresher on Xenu to prepare you for deconstructing an urban opera, I always say.
They started the evening with a "R&B Battle in the style of R. Kelly" between a guy who looked exactly like the kid in Rushmore and a plain vanilla jock. The Rushmore kid won by a landslide. In fact, if you closed your eyes he sounded just like R. Kelly (granted, not that it takes that much talent to do it). The jock was literally booed off the stage - and I was happy. I'm always glad when the dopey kid wins.
After some pseudo-intellectual intro that was really funny but I forgot, our emcee explains that they will only show 4 episodes at a time (there are 12 in total) because "the intensity might kill us if we don't take a break." He was not exaggerating - the level of noise and off-key singing that erupted the second the show started was deafening - it was impossible not to get into it.
Seven o'clock in the morning
And the rays from the sun wakes me
I'm stretchin' and yawnin'
In a bed that don't belong to me-e ...
As you all know the song quickly builds into a crescendo - it was impossible not to scream out the lyrics.
He looks at the closet!!!
I pull out my Beretta!!
The Husband (along with about 300 people) was really getting into it and we we got to the first cliffhanger we were shouting at the top of our lungs:
He walks up to the closet !!!!
He comes up to the closet!!!!!!!!!!
Now he's at the closet !!!!
Now he's opening the closet...!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The kid that was sitting next to The Husband yells in his ear "this is going to be the BEST night of my life!"
He must have been really impressed that my Husband, a man who is probably twice his age, knew all the lyrics as well as he did because he took out his backpack and handed us beer. He had contraband! And he gave us two!
Budweisers. In the white cans.
I haven't had one since college (because I'm a snob. I admit it!) but I have to tell you - that Bud was like the Ambrosia of the Greek gods - delicious! We were young! Carefree! And Naughty! We were drinking with our new best friends!
My husband, who is impeccably polite, had to reciprocate. But our group had only one thing to offer. So my husband takes it and taps the shoulder of our beer benefactor to offer some of our precious contraband.
The kid's face breaks out into a grin until he looks down; he then looks up at my husband, puzzled.
"It's a Toblerone. Take all you want."
"Um. I'm cool." (Awkward pause.) "Thanks?"
Yeah, we felt stupid. But we were soon back in good graces with our buddy. By the next chapter, he had given us more beer and we were all happily singing along with R. Kelly as one big, happy, inter-generational family:
She says you're the perfect lover!
I said I cant go no futher!
Then I flip back the cover!
Oh my God, a rubber...rubber...
Kids today. They're awesome.