"I don't know how I got here. How did I get here? I was - I don't know, there's a kind of a blank." - Orestes (last one, I promise!)
Dont ask me how I wound up here, but:
Hm. What do you think, Mouse? I'm going to say I may actually agree with Froot Loops, but not in the way that he/she/Pat Robertson may think.
According to my exhaustive, 10-minute research, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders apparently defines "Possession and possession trance" as
"a single or episodic alteration in the state of consciousness characterized by the replacement of customary sense of personal identity by a new identity."
Helena took one look at me and knew what had to be done. I had all the symptoms: compulsive googling of the play's reviews, giggling through repeated anecdotes, mooning over saved text messages, and "intense, maniacal delight in wielding power" (oops, sorry, not that one - same web site again.) Who would know better? As you recall, she and I met on this project which was sheer heaven and which also took us several months and (at least in my case) unhealthy repetitions of the Foo Fighters' 'Let It Die' to get over. "Meet me Monday night", she said, "at the Brick Cafe."
At this point I should probably say that the Brick Cafe in Astoria Queens has a $25 prix-fixe on weeknights that looks none too shabby, though Helena and I ordered a la carte. Second, I will also say that we split a salad, a pasta, and a dessert and it was certainly enough for two people. They plated the pasta separately for us; no charge. Lovely.
Crepes Suzette with Rose Hip Jam. Delicious. Like a cherry and a flower had a baby... made of jam.
(with a note that the ordering of almost all black food was not intentional, but is fascinating. Black is the traditional magical color for rituals of banishment. Oooooo....
2. The Breakpoint (Nero d'Avola, or 'Black Wine of Avola')
Pretense collapses, and the demon reveals itself. The Boo drinks two satiny, purple glasses in succession and predicts that she will probably never work again.
3. The Voice (Black Linguine with Shrimp & Clams)
The Victim begins to let out a stream of "humanly distressing babble". Tipsily chanting in Ancient Greek under her breath, The Boo asks Helena if she's already told her that story about the old man in the audience who said "This is Stupid" out loud during the matinee. (Answer: Yes, twice.)
Squid ink makes this pasta black and gives it a subtle, marine intensity...
5. Expulsion (Black Irish Coffee, No Whip)
So, Mouse, you can rest easy. I'm out of Argos and among friends. I still miss my peeps, but feel no need to involve Dave Grohl. I'll leave you with this: my research also revealed that the word "exorcism" comes from the Ancient Greek for "to place on oath", not necessarily to cast out. I'm friends with my demon. But if it ever gets the better of me, I'll head straight to a cozy table in good company. Just lock up the tapenade when you see me coming.