A Devilish Evening

Mallory and I had quite an adventurous evening. Since the time she won tickets Monday morning, we were anxiously anticipating viewing a press-screening of the movie, The Devil Wears Prada (this is a pretty good review, in case you haven't heard of it). I have never been to a movie before its release. The place was packed!

We arrived in plenty of time (as suggested), but were still surprised to find the majority of the theatre full even thirty minutes before its start time. The prime seats (ie. seats right smack in the middle with the best view) were "reserved" for the press. The rest of us "ordinary" people were forced to sit on the rim of the theatre. Mal and I found two seats together on the third row and left side. Yeah... not exactly amazing, but still free.

The radio station promoting the party gave out gifts to winners who knew answers about the movie. You know, the people who actually read the book. They also handed out tickets to a local club to anyone who wanted them. Mal and I scored two for Thursday night.

The movie started at 7:45 and was over at around 9:30. It was an entertaining movie and I couldn't help but feel dizzy as all the fashion industry's big names were dropped. At one point, when Andy (the main character played by Anne Hathaway) first starts her job at Runway, she is standing doe-eyed and overwhelmed as her boss (Maryl Streep) rambles off about five names. Only one of whom I knew. It's amazing to think that there really is such a world of hard-core fashionistas and that their world does affect me (as a consumer) whether I'd like to admit it or not. This point was emphasized in a scene between Hathaway and Streep where Streep critiqued Hathaway's sweater based solely on its color and texture. Overall, two thumbs up and definitely worth watching.

After the movie, I dragged Mal in search of the "holy champagne." Monday night I promised Drew that we would celebrate his vacation to Germany (he leaves today) with a special European champagne concoction that he was eager to share. Well, as of 9:30 I still hadn't picked up a bottle.

Normally, this wouldn't pose too much of a problem. A couple importances to note, however, between NC and DC... one, Mal and I were in a completely unfamiliar area of town. I mean, we were just proud of ourselves for finding the theatre once we stepped out of the metro center. Second, DC stops selling alcohol after ten o'clock. So, Mal and I had to find champagne to make Drew's "Creme Royale" in thirty minutes.

Oh, and it was pouring rain.

So, after the movie, we dashed out of the theatre and into the street. Funny, because once we got out there, we had no idea where to go. We went right towards the neon signs and beckoning lights. As we walked beneath our umbrellas, all we passed were restaurants and closed dry cleaners. Within five minutes, the bottom of my pant legs were completely soaked.

After we hadn't found any store that sold the precious champagne, we broke down and asked a couple that was walking by. There's nothing more humbling than asking where a booze store is as you are standing, drenched, in the pouring rain with hair as big as Einstein's. They graciously told us a couple of places we could try and pointed us farther down the block to the Safeway (you know, the grocery store I wrote of a couple weeks ago).

We checked our watches- we still had 15 minutes to make it to the Safeway (the other places were closed), which was about four blocks away. Relieved that our quest was almost over, we slowed and talked about how wet we were and what a good story we had to tell Drew about getting this bottle.

We arrived at Safeway and began scouring the aisles. No alcohol was in sight. A clerk explained that not all Safeways carry alcohol. We were lucky (dripping with sarcasm). Of all the Safeways in the area, we had found one that didn't.

It was five minutes after ten o'clock and we found ourselves outside the store. As we opened our umbrellas and prepared to step back into the rain, we changed our game plan. "Well, we can go to one of the restaurants and buy a bottle to go," Mal suggested. It was our only option. Admitting Safeway defeat, we trudged back towards restaurant row.

We arrived at the first place that we found. It was a beautiful Tapas restaurant complete with table clothes and tea light candles. We stepped inside and immediately attracted the attention of all the dry patrons. Stepping past the hostess stand, we made our way over the hardwood floor to the bar. My shoes seemed extra loud and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of water trail we were leaving.

The bartender was like a beacon. As we stepped closer to his domain, a man rose from his perch at the bar. His drink sat before him. He was obviously the owner as he asked what he could do for us. A bit embarrassed by my physical state, I told him that we wanted a bottle of champagne and added that we were looking for a Brut. He left his drink where it sat and walked behind the bar. Behind him stood a cooler with a glass front. The glass frosted as he pulled out a bottle of Don Perignon. I recognized the bottle and braced myself for the price.

"A Brut," he said as he showed me the bottle. I asked the price and was proud of my "flinch control" as he rattled off one twenty five. I told him that the bottle was a bit out of our range. He placed the bottle back in the cooler and pulled out second. "This one is not a Brut," he said as he showed me the bottle and quoted the price of twenty five. While easier on the ears, I knew it wouldn't work. I could hear Drew in my mind. You two walked all over town and this isn't even a Brut. I shook my head and again repeated our need. He pulled out a third bottle. "This is a Brut." He quoted us forty dollars, which was the highest that Mal and I agreed to go in on.

"Would you like to drink it at the bar," he pointed out into the dining area, "or would you prefer a table?"

Here we go. "Actually, we want it to go." It was a stretch and I knew it. That got his attention as well as a couple patrons sitting nearby. He laughed. "I can't do that. It's against policy. We could get our license revoked," he explained. Another guy (who the owner had been sitting beside at the bar) jumped in, "Yeah, they could get shut down for that." Thanks, buddy.

We told them our situation and both of them were eager to help us in our quest. The second guy said that we could still get alcohol from stores in Maryland (they sell until midnight). "It's only one metro stop up," he explained. "You just have to get out of The District." They then told us where we could go once we got off the metro.

So, out we went. It was about ten thirty. We hopped on the metro and made our way into Maryland. The rain was still relentless and we were officially soaked. As we exited the train, we checked the map for the name of the street that the two guys shared with us. It was a three block walk to the street and the street itself was about four blocks long. So, worse case scenario, we had to walk another seven blocks to get there.

By 11:15 we'd found it. We only got off track once. Thankfully, I only had to ask one person where we could find our store. I figured by this point I just looked scary and desperate (I was, basically). And Mal looked the same, only she was also tired and had a headache. What a trooper.

I can't explain the feeling that I had as the cashier bagged that stupid champagne. I think Mal and I even exchanged a high five at some point? Either way, we finally walked through our apartment door, soaked, but pleased with ourselves, at midnight.

Drew was appreciative and it made our adventure worth while. Mal went straight to bed (she did have a headache, remember) and Drew and I toasted to his trip with his "European" drink recipe.