Miserable at Les Miserables

I've had tickets to Les Miserables for months and was really looking forward to going, so of course I come down with a wicked cold the night before. At first I thought it was *ahem* smoke inhalation but it quickly became clear that I was just sick. That was not about to stop me from going but I was a mess most of the night. I would wait for applause so I could sniffle and cough but unfortunately much of the musical is solos and soft ballads so there was an obscene amount of tissue crammed up my nose in silence, and the guy next to me was thoroughly unpleased sitting next to Typhoid Mary.

Since I have no class and love the idea of hookers singing, my favourite song of the night was "Lovely Ladies" in which a slew of prostitutes sing about the virtues of the world's oldest profession. I think about the hookers in "Sin City" belting this out instead and I am overcome by how absolutely awesome that would be:

Lovely ladies
Waiting in the dark
Ready for a thick one
Or a quick one in the park

There were songs of love and devotion, songs of mourning and songs of revolution and the one that stuck with me was a song about ladies getting boinked for pay. Though to redeem myself the final lines in the song are, to me, some of the best in the entire production:

Easy money
Lying on a bed
Just as well they never see
The hate that's in your head
Don't they know they're making love
To one already dead!

One thing I did notice was that Les Mis is very much in the old school tradition of singing everything. I mean, I love musicals but some dialogue between songs is sort of welcome or it seems a bit much. Whenever they were talk-singing I immediately thought of Simpsons' Musical spoofs like when Homer stars in "Rent II - Condo Fever":

Where is the Rent?
I must have the rent!
Dollars, dimes and nickels,
I need them all right now!

All in all it was a fun evening except for the tail-end which is a bit of a blur. Dan who had come with me gave my some "Drixoral" after the show. Now I've never heard of this medication and in retrospect I'm pretty sure he accidentally slipped me a roofie because I remember being really groggy and next thing I know I'm face-down in a McDonald's drive through with bright red lipstick and a tattoo reading "Daughters of the American Revolution". But if a night ended without me passing out somewhere then it wouldn't really be me would it?