On Friday nights, I usually change in to my pajamas at 5, order a pizza, have an extra glass of wine, and watch Shark Tank with my husband. Last Friday was a wee bit different. My good friend M had a couple of extra tickets to the murder mystery dinner here in my hometown. My husband and I like hanging out with M and her husband, so we were glad they invited us. Having never been to a murder mystery dinner, I thought it was a dinner show, meaning I could just sit there, shovel food in my face, and watch the show. It would be kind of like what I do at home in front of the TV only I would have to wear a bra, and not put my feet up. It sounded awesome.
At 43, I have the hearing of a 90 year-old, so before walking into the restaurant, I turned up my hearing aids. I wanted to be able to hear M and hear the show. This was my first mistake. Holy heck. From the time we entered the restaurant until the "crime" was solved, there was constant noise and "information" about the killer. The interaction never stopped.
Once I realized how noisy it would be, I turned DOWN my hearing aids and asked to see the drink menu. I said a silent secular prayer that this was a full liquor bar place and not a beer and wine only place. I did plan to order two glasses at a time if wine was my only option. One glass would not be strong enough for this hermit hell I was in. Beer is just weak bread flavored soda, in my humble opinion.
As an introvert, I lose energy when I am in a crowd of people. It's almost like my light switch goes off and my ability to interact with people just shuts down. My switch flipped off about an hour before the show was over. I'm sorry, I mean about an hour before the murder was solved.
Not only was there a lot of listening and talking, but there was freaking homework! Seriously. We had to take notes and fill out a worksheet about "clues" and "suspects." I was not allowed to write, "I don't care. Can I just have my dessert in peace?" That is not a correct answer. They really wanted us to THINK about what had happened and who had a motive to kill the victim. I hadn't heard most of what the suspects had said because the sound system seemed to have come from a 1989 K-Mart catalog. It also could have been because I'm hearing impaired.
Not only did I have to strain to listen to suspects, but also I had to talk to strangers. Strangers. I'm still recovering. We were supposed to actually get up from our table and circulate to talk to even more strangers. As the token introverts at the super interactive murder mystery show, M and I declined to do this. Our husbands played the game, though. This gave M and I a chance to catch up.
There was a theme, too. It wasn't just a murder we were solving; it was a totally awesome, tubular murder from my high school years. That's right. We were partying like it was 1985. I really enjoyed the 80's theme, especially the costumes. I wore my cat Swatch (of course I have one), a checkerboard mini skirt, and leggings. Other people dressed in really authentic 80's attire, including the murderer and her man.
The murderer was Cindy Leapyear. Get it? Leapyear instead of Lauper. I don't remember what her motive was or any details because I had stopped paying attention an hour earlier. I think it had something to do with a romantic relationship with another character that looked like Joe Dirt. My husband got a picture of Cindy (not her real name) and her companion, who wore a plastic suit. I hope he had a layer of baby powder under that suit. It did not look comfortable. I spent the evening trying to figure out if he was Michael Jackson or Devo. He did win a prize for his costume, as I told him he would when I first saw him earlier in the evening. Cindy and Devo Jackson gave us permission to use their picture.
So, if you are an extrovert, and you love talking to people and being social, and doing a lot of thinking while you eat dinner, find yourself a murder mystery dinner to attend. If you are an introvert, stay home and watch TV. It won't talk back to you and you can wear pajamas while you watch.
Cindy Leapyear and Devo Jackson