But I was shocked: Dallas Comedy House not only had a food menu that did not make me want to vom (I ordered from it!), but it had thoughtful drink specials. Like, drinks you'd actually want to put in your mouth.
I knew we'd be hitting some adult snocone action later (more to come on that scene in another post), so I figured I'd start basic. But then I saw the Skinny Pina Colada on the li'l table top placard. Parrot Bay coconut, pineapple juice and soda. No cream of coconut? Not bad. Sorta weird that the photo on the menu looks a little like a cocktail with a pickle garnish, but I accepted that it was just a freaky lime, didn't let it affect me and moved on with my order.
Our server -- who was awesome at the mid-show shoulder-tap-and-whisper -- said that while it was her first night on the job (even bigger props), she'd been drinking there before and definitely recommended it. I do love an unsolicited validation of my order.
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
The drink arrived and the show started. Members of the cast interviewed Grimes and as she drank whiskey, answered questions and told anecdotes (tip: Rent The Anarchist's Cookbook and watch the first 4.5 minutes). They riffed off of what she said, creating an improv show that was really damn funny. Descriptions do no justice, but know there's something gut-busting about a Southern gentleman's eulogy for a miniature prop horse as well as what happens when your next door neighbor is the Grim Reaper and his dog is super irritating.
I sipped on a light and breezy cocktail that made me feel like I was on a cruise ship enjoying some on-ship entertainment...but way better entertainment than I saw when I was last on a cruise ship, trust.
The rum was present but not heavy-handed, so the coconut flavor wasn't cloying. The soda/pineapple relationship kept the sticky sweet from becoming overwhelming. There was a nice amount of ice. I could drink about four of them and pass out in a hammock with no problem, but I tend to prefer knowing what I'm laughing at -- call me lucid -- so I didn't get hammered while Grimes got megaphoned (sounds gross, isn't).
Oh, and the music? Let's just say in one improvised transition, Marilyn Manson followed some yacht rock. I laughed yet again, took one last draw off my coconut-y straw and vowed to return to try out more shows and drinks...sans pickle garnish.