Noshing with Kiki

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Those who saw one of Cabaret Kiki's three performances at Theatre 99 May 18-20 will recall experiencing a meta-moment when the mubling bag lady they'd stepped around outside on their way into the theatre appeared onstage as Kiki herself. It's unknown whether she'll make a similarly unscripted appearance at the Dangerous Strangers gigs later this week, but at one of this weekend's endless string of parties, I forget which, I found Kiki loitering around the cheese table, eyeing the surrounding clutch of Spoletians and tucking smoked salmon into her pockets. She layed a few words of wisdom on me — some of which I could understand — and so I, in turn, am sharing them with you now, since I've got to compose my thoughts on yesterday's adventures with Rubberbandance Group (our dance critic gives it a B+), Faustus, The Last Night (Fernando Rivas torpedoes it, I thought it was swell) and Stefano Battaglia. I'll be back shortly. In the meantime, Kiki says wassup.

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