The truth about Lindsay Fontaine



Well, when MP called with tickets to see Molly Ringwald as Sweet Charity at the Fox, what could I say? Of course I said 'yes.' We took public transit, in order to avoid Midtown traffic and price gouging at the parking lot.



Once in our seats, there was LOUD chatter from the audience during the overture, and MP turned to me at one point and said, "What's with all the talking?" I replied, "It's called the overture, and it means 'shut the fuck up!'" To which MP said, "I'm OVERTURE talking!" Yuck yuck yuck. Also, Molly Ringwald wasn't exactly low class enough, or over the top enough, and when she huffed and puffed her way through "If My Friends Could See Me Now" I wanted to tell her to sit down and catch her breathe, but the supporting cast was most excellent.



The show ended around 10:30. It took us a good minute to catch a Southbound train, since they were single tracking (#$&#&@#&!!!! This is the second time in four days I have been screwed over by the single tracking...get that shit fixed, MARTA!) We found ourselves in a car with a very obnoxious gaggle of fifteen year olds (curfews, anyone?) that we managed to shake at Five Points on the Eastbound platform.



However, at Five Points there was this very doofy looking white guy on the platform across the tracks from us. For those who don't know, at Five Points the platforms are one on each side for any given train, meaning people standing across the tracks from us, such as doofy white guy, were waiting for the same train as we were. As luck would have it, doofy white guy got on our car and sat down across from us. I immediately adopted my patented "Don't fuck with me, I am riding this train and you will not fuck with me. Do you hear? Don't fuck with me!" look and avoided eye contact. So he looks at MP hopefully and says, "Excuse me." And thus the real show began.


I don't think I can do it justice here, but the hilarity that ensued entertained the entire train car. People were turning around to listen, I literally was biting my lip to keep from laughing, and I could feel the heat turning my face the color of my reddish-purple skirt. The high school boys next to us got in on the act, too, egging MP on in her charade as Lindsay Fontaine, Lesbian. The best part was when doofy white guy said, "Lindsay Fontaine? That name sounds familiar. Have you been in the Creative Loafing? Hey, you're not one of those girls who says she's a lesbian just to get rid of guys like me, right?" It was MP's best performance to date.



Somebody call shenanigans...

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