Chapter 36 - Dinner and a Show
Dressed in our finest, we headed down to the restaurant, which was on one of the lower floors of the hotel. I had my, what by now had become a signature, waistcoat that Rarity had given to me when I had last been required to visit Canterlot. Personally, I had never cared all that much for suits, even at this point in my life; I viewed them as uncomfortable inconveniences to be avoided at all costs.
Rarity on the other hand, was completely at home in her attire. When she had finally finished preparing in the bathroom, the alabaster mare had emerged wearing one of her own unique creations. The best short description I can come up with was ‘torcher dame’. The dress was a deep blue and full length extending right down to her hooves and trailing slightly behind her. The hems were littered here and there with small blue and white diamonds, a feat only achievable in Equestria. Back on Earth, anyone wearing something like that would have had to put on brass knuckles any time they took it out. In addition to the diamonds around the hems, the neck lining also sported a number of slightly larger stones. The centre of the dress was cut in a fashion not dissimilar to a human one, with a long V-neck design. All of this true attention to the beautiful pendant that hung from her neck. That had to be the largest rock I’ve ever seen. Hay, it could probably pass for the Countess of Morcar’s Blue Carbuncle, in other words, it was the Heart of the Ocean. She’d kept her mane the way she always carried it, though with perhaps a few more products applied.
Short version: damn. I honestly can say, even with my arrival in this dimension or universe or plane of existence, I did not see myself attending a high society fashion event with a beautiful lady in tow.
Once again, the elevator chimed and the doors silently slid open revealing another ornate lobby. Signs were posted here and there for the restaurant which we followed. After a short walk we found ourselves at the doors to the establishment. Off to the side of the doors was a small desk, sitting at which, was a small well cut stallion. Glancing up at us, he quickly got to his hooves.
“Do you have a reservation for tonight?” he asked. Rarity had planned for everything regarding the show and the later ball tomorrow. But neither of us had expected the restaurant to be overly busy. Looking through the doors though, it looked as if almost every table was full. I turned to look at Rarity, the poor girl looked downtrodden. Luckily though, whilst she played the role of a high society mare, I could play more useful parts.
I walked up to the stallion at the desk. Briefly flaring my horn, I removed a few coins from my pocket. All told I had around seventy bits made up of various denominations, each one bore the face of an important figure in Equestrian history. I slid a five bit coin to him, smiling.
“Hurricane,” I said. The stallion smiled and shook his head. I hoofed over another five.
“Hurricane,” I repeated. Again, he shook his head. Go for broke, ten.
“Starswirl?” This time, the bugger smiled and nodded.
Opening the doors for us he passed us off to a waiter who took us to a table for two.
The place was very pleasant. Soft piano music could be heard coming from the grand across the room. It looked like we’d ‘reserved’ one of, if not the last table in the whole place. As we glanced over the ornate menus, I could feel Rarity’s gaze burrowing into me. To be fair, I had just got us into a high class restaurant by greasing the doorman with a few bits. Not exactly the behaviour of a gentlecolt.
Deciding not to prolong the inevitable further, I lowered the menu that I had been using as a shield for the past few minutes to face Rarity. The look on her face was something between fury and disappointment. Mainly fury though. I prepared for the worst as she began.
“Blade Star, I cannot believe what you just...” She was cut off as the waiter came to take our orders.
“And what might I get you two tonight?” he asked in an accent marked with a Prench undertone. Instantly, the previous expression on Rarity’s face vanished, replaced with a typical high society air.
“Oh, I think I shall have the pan Ratatouille, please.” She turned her gaze on me. “And you dear?” Her tone carried perhaps a hint of ice.
“Ah’ll go with the house soup if you don’t mind,” I answered. “And bring a bottle of red wine as well, please.” The waiter nodded and trotted away. Now the fun would begin. I looked Rarity in the eye. “Rarity ah’m really sorry about that earlier. Ah just didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Never mind that, Blade Star,” she replied. “I am more concerned with the effect such actions could have on you. All the connotations you’ve caused me to see in your accent and manner would be wiped away if it got out that you bribed a doorpony. And cheaply at that! Goodness knows what it would do to me by association.” She was right, not the best start when you act like a bit of a rogue in the aristocratic capital.
“Ah doubt it was noticed, Rarity,” I needed to calm her. “And ah assure you that it was a one-time thing. In future ah promise that if we come to a high class restaurant without reservations ah will not attempt to bribe my way in. Pinkie Promise.” I made the required motions.
As I said this, the waiter returned with the wine. While I may have grown up near Birmingham, I still knew how things were done in restaurants. The bottle had not been corked and appeared to have been well breathed before hoof. Rarity elected to taste it first. Taking a sip, her nose tinged red slightly under her white coat and she smiled. I thanked the waiter who then poured me a glass and left the bottle on the table for us.
What happened next can either be attributed to Rarity taking wine on an empty stomach, or my powers of charm are more effective than I thought. Let’s go with the former.
“Oh wonderful, darling,” she said, picking up our conversation where we had left off. “At last I can be at peace knowing that you won’t indulge in bribery of Canterlot eatery establishments again.” She smiled happily and slurred her words ever so slightly. Her joke however, indicated that, for now, I was off the hook. Still, probably best to make sure she waited for the food before having any more of the wine. Either it was unusually strong, or Rarity was a bit of a lightweight.
Rarity settled down and seemed to, for the moment at least, forgive me for my earlier transgression. But, as any male ought to know, a female forgiving you is probably just her storing the fault to be used in an argument later. Still, at least this meant we could enjoy a pleasant dinner together before heading to this fashion gig. Once again, the whole date like quality of this experience reared its ugly head. I quickly shot it down.
Rarity was a beautiful mare, there was no denying that, but frankly, she was not my type and was sort of taken by Spike. But then given my situation, who was my type? I had no objection to spending a pleasant evening with her, or with any of the others had they asked. I liked them and cared for them deeply, but I was still unsure about what would eventually happen. Referring to any bad HiE, the human inevitably puts their inhibitions aside and falls in love with, sleeps with and occasionally marries whichever mare has struck their fancy. Try doing that, and consequently explaining it, in a real small town social environment when your parents are a ten minute walk away from your own place.
Still, that was a matter to be settled at another time, one that didn’t require me to be on my best behaviour and move in social circles far beyond my skills and station. We both finished our main meals and set the cutlery, which was all but identical to its counterpart on Earth, on our cleared plates. The food had been of the highest calibre and I would certainly consider coming here again should I ever need to return to this city. The castle of course, I viewed as separate from Canterlot as a whole. It was occupied by two, occasionally three, princesses and a whole slew of guards. Canterlot proper, was occupied by similar guards and a vast slew of overbred snobs.
“Right, now what do you fancy for desert, Rarity?” I asked as she levitated that particular menu to before her snout. “I hear that the Concorde cake is highly recommended.” I might have picked that up in background conversation. Rarity thought for a moment, perhaps considering the ramifications of partaking in such a confection. But then, given the average sweet consumption for most ponies, excluding Pinkie Pie, a sweet tooth was not as debilitating as it would be on Earth.
“I might just try that,” she answered, moving the menu back to its original position on the table. “Although I had better be careful, as should you, Blade Star. We can’t risk damaging these now can we?” She gestured to her dress and my own waistcoat. One of the many reasons I prefer to avoid formal attire.
After desert and a shared pot of coffee, I, being the gentlecolt I am, picked up the tab and we prepared to go. An interesting thing to note on Equestrian social norms; tipping is not compulsory. In spite of Equestria being heavily influenced by and similar to the United States, I was neither scolded by Rarity, nor chased by the establishment’s staff for not doing so. It’s not as though I’m tight with a Bit, it’s just that I never really believed in it as a compulsory measure. The whole point of a tip was a reward for superior service, making it compulsory negated the effect. In any case, we headed out of the hotel and towards the large concert hall where the fashion show itself was to be held.
The place wasn’t hard to spot. The number of searchlights that were shining up into the sky could probably be seen from Ponyville. And naturally, the bright lights succeeded in polluting the sky sufficiently enough to make the many stars Luna placed all but invisible. Damn pro-Celestia ponies, always obsessed with their precious light. My ears twitched in irritation at the act and I quietly snorted in disgust.
In addition to the lights, huge banners were hung across the concert hall proclaiming it as the venue for this year’s Canterlot Fashion Show. And of course, there was the incredibly long queue extending from the front of the building. We of course, would not be in that queue. As Rarity was a designer who would be displaying her creations, and as I was her ‘plus one’, we both had access to the backstage areas. Both of us would be in one of the elevated boxes giving us a better view of the show and keeping the plebs away. Not that I’m being snobbish. Actually, it was the reverse; I was the plebeian keeping the snobs away.
Rarity and I briefly parted ways as we entered the huge hall. She headed off through a maze of back ways to reach the dressing rooms to perform a final check and speak with the various models. I on the other hoof, would go directly up to the box we had been given. I now of course sported a VIP badge around my neck to ensure I was not hassled by the on-site security. There were quite a lot of them, a fair few Royal Guards and what I assumed to be private security personnel too. Who knows, perhaps Equestria had its own version of Executive Outcomes.
Ascending the stairs with the other VIPs, the majority of whom were nobles carrying opera glasses, I was quickly directed to our box. Not that it was hard to find, each one was marked with its occupant’s names. But then, Celestia forbid that the nobility be required to think. The existence of such a group continues to surprise me. While Equestria may be an absolutist diarchy, it had the markings of a democratic state at the local level. I would have expected that such class divides would have withered away by now. Then again, they hadn’t in Britain.
Settling myself down in one of the extremely plush seats provided, I was quickly given a glass of champagne, or least what counted in Equestria as champagne, as any Frenchman will tell you, such a drink is only a sparkling white unless it has been produced in the proper region of France. Though I suppose we would always have Prance.
I placed the glass down on one of the small tables provided and looked out at the scene. The concert hall was a large vast expanse clearly suitable for large scale events from classical concerts, to plays and maybe even the odd rock concert. Of course the one notable exception to the place’s repertoire was the Hearth Warming Pageant which, for Canterlot, always took place at the palace. Looking right to the rear of the theatre, towering above all the others, there was a large ornate looking box, with the national banners hanging from them; the Royal Box. The princesses would not be attending tonight’s event but would be attending the subsequent reception on the morrow.
As the house lights came down, Rarity returned and settled herself taking a sip from her own glass of champagne. Her face showed a hint of nervousness, understandable, everypony who was anypony in the fashion world would be viewing her designs. A far cry from her store in Ponyville. I placed my hoof on hers as a reassuring gesture. And with that, the exhibition began.
Proofread by Sidetrack.
Spot the reference to 'Princess Twilight Sparkle - Part 1'.
Also, I went on the Internet last week and I found this:
This inspired my brief rant on tipping.
As always, like, favourite and comment below. I'll see you all next Friday.
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"Mom. Dad. You're gonna be grandparents."
"But were the only humans in... Oh."
"Yeah"
Ooooooooooo
4219244 Blade Star's hard line attitude to Changelings does not reflect the author's views, though that attitude will form part of a sub-plot between him and Strong Shield.
Refecencing in author's notes too? Oh, wow.
You know, only people from the northern Mexico states (which they use a form American Southerner accent) they call among friends Plebes.
Executive Outcomes
It's because it's an idealized form of the US. Nobody thinks tipping is ideal. In fact, most people would probably agree it's about as far from ideal as you can get without landing in Tambelon.
I just have to say, tipping is rarely compulsory in the US. And when it is compulsory it is known as a gratuity.
I dislike it when people use stereotypes or tidbits of info about things that they are not sure of.
the video was broken, was it by chance collagehumor's adam ruins everything on tipping?
7409275
Yeah it's still broken... And I'm not sure
8772742 It was an old pony dub video. It was the cafe scene from Reservoir dogs, where Mr. Pink talks about tipping, with visuals from gala episode from Season 1.
fictionalfood.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Ratatouille1-550x375.jpg
Pinkie is an outlier and as such should not be counted.
the reason you can find a lot of people in the service industry get aggressive about tipping in the US is because their standard wage is so far below a reasonable amount that they need the extra money. most are paid minimum wage which for America is an abtrary number more concerned with what lobbyists want their corporate sponsors to pay than any relevance to the actual poverty line of that region.
10574206 I suppose it's because there's no living wage in the states like there is in Britain. Still, it's kind f messed up when you think about it. You pay for a service, and then have to pay an individual employee a surcharge, because the service for which you've already paid doesn't charge enough to pay the employee adequately. It's like taxes not being shown on the price. Just makes no sense to us. Conversely, in Japan, I understand tipping is frowned upon because excellent standards are always expected, and rewarding an individual employee brings about all sorts of awkwardness as a result.
10574946
In the USA, the Infernal Revenue Service requires that you pay taxes on your tips & that a % of your tickets $ is given as tips.
They get nasty if they assume you are under reporting your tips.
No, you don't HAVE to tip. But you had better never go back there.