The Mister and I attended one last holiday party on January 4th. It was his employer’s holiday bash at a dinner theatre in South Boston, called Medieval Manor , where I was referred to as “m’ lady.” Wish I had pictures of this Urban Adventure, but my phone is awful when it comes to dark indoor lighting.
Medieval Manor may not be a Vegas show with knights and jousting, but it was a comedic performance by a king and his court, consisting of wenches, a jester, a minstrel and a fool. Once seated at the long wooden tables and waiting for the appetizer of bread, oil and spices, you cannot leave unless you ask the King’s permission or if he grants all permission to travel down “Canterbury Trail” for the bathroom or smoking break. If one does leave without seeking his highness’ approval, a member of the court removes the culprit’s chair from the table and must kneel and beg forgiveness to earn back the chair. Our party of forty-eight gladly pointed out those who left without permission.
During the songs and skits, people were called out of the audience to participate and one birthday boy was named “Ryan the Peon,” and continually referred to throughout the performance. Wine flowed plenty from glass flasks and salad, oysters, dry rub ribs, bread, and chicken arrived in intervals for the dining. The ribs were absolutely sumptuous and a few at our table (myself included) asked for more ribs when the wenches came by. Our ribs were not refilled, and we were quite tempted to bang on the table top and chant, “Ribs! Ribs! Ribs!” We did not think that would go over very well though.
Quince, the jester, Shpilkus the Oaf provided many a joke and skits while Minstrel Mike strummed the guitar. And wench Chloe told a story which she claimed her overly drunk uncle told her. “Prinderella” lived with her “sticked wepmother” until she snuck out to a “boyal rall” to “prance with the dince.” With Cinderella being my favorite of the fairy tales, this re-telling roused much giggles and laughter from yours truly.
Upon leaving the King’s court, I shook hands with the King and gave the lovable Shpilkus a hug. And we all lived happily every after that evening on full bellies.
Undina
January 11, 2013 at 7:37 pm
It sounds like a lot of fun! (though I’d dare anyone to prevent me from leaving or returning
)
Missey Twisted
January 13, 2013 at 2:57 pm
I was a bit late returning from “Canturbury Trail” during a performance, and was thankful that no one from the king’s court pointed me out.