28
Dec
11

thou shalt call me zeroaster

Come see the one-man show that’s taking off-Broadway by storm-Stories From 101 96th Street! You’ll laugh, cry and even sy*h as Live Erotic Theater Quarterly‘s 1996 Newcomer of the Year nominee Sandy Montenegro inhabits the off-the-wall neighbors who inhabit the zaniest apartment building in the Bronx! You’ll have plenty to talk about on the long train ride home from Ralph’s Coffeehouse and Artist’s Space in Pelham Park after you get to know this dazzlingly diverse array of characters:

Mark on the fifth floor: “I mean, hey- can a guy get a pastrami on rye around here? Fifteen years I been comin’ to this deli; you’d think I could get a little service, don’t you think? I wear cheap clothes and my combover isn’t fooling anyone, right, pal? Yeah, you might say I’m a real jerk. I play my music too loud and have really noisy sex, where I yell at the woman to kick me like a horse right as I’m about to reach my peak. Be a real shame if somebody told my peers on the school board about my weird kink, but that doesn’t stop me from acting like a total asshole to people who have potentially damaging information, including audio recordings and infrared camera footage.”

Ivette on the third floor: “Yeah, papi, you might call me an around-the-way girl. Rap videos have been made about the way I take clothes out of a front-loading washer at the laundromat. Sure, I might be good-looking, but I act like it too, see, walkin around with my nose in the air and not giving anyone the time of day when I run into them in the lobby while checking the mail. There’s only one thing I like more than smoking cigarettes on the fire escape real slow and sexy, and that’s kicking a guy like a horse right as he’s about to reach his peak, and I’m the best at it. Yeah. I’m bad.”

Luther the superintendent: “I don’t gave a damn when you need it, I’ll get to it when I get to it, man! Look, I’ma have to call you later, aight? Sorry about that; the nerve of these tenants! They think it’s the end of the world if they go a few days without running water. I’m as sorry as anyone that you’re being inconvenienced, but I couldn’t very well come back early from Palm Beach without cancelling some pretty nice dinner reservations, so my hands were tied. Hey, not for nothing, but we’ve all got problems. I can’t keep my Jaguar out of the shop, but do you hear me complaining about it? Besides, it’s not all bad. Just the other day, a guy in one of my buildings invited me to do some freaky, freaky stuff with a girl that’s known for kicking a dude like a horse right as he’s about to reach his peak, and I’ve always wanted to try that. Mother of Mary, it was everything I ever dreamed of and more. They told me that a threesome was a longtime fantasy of theirs, but they had had a hard time finding someone. Apparently one of their neighbors had been in the running until they began jumping to conclusions and harboring totally unfounded suspicions about his astronomy hobby. Between you and me, they seemed like a couple of snobby jerks.”

Audiences called Stories From 101 96th Street “an… effort,” “disturbingly racist, but in a way that was strangely ignorant of Asian stereotypes, unless there’s something I’ve been missing this whole time about them and Ritz crackers,” and “Uh, could you keep it down? People are trying to do the crossword here.” Get your tickets today, because this tour de force isn’t likely to be around long, and costume designer Rod Butterscotch really did put a lot of effort into creating a prosthetic ass big enough to meet Mr. Montenegro’s specifications for Ivette.

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