Everything got mixed up in my head, I don't remember when what happened. So let it be the way I recall it.
The next day we were planning to go to a water park, but it was too cold and wet. Because of the huge volume of the pools, the water in Noah’s Ark is not heated. In the end, we didn't get there at all, so I won't write anything about it. Suffice it to say that the water park is excellent and huge, my sister used to work there.
The upside-down white house aka Top Secret. I haven't been there.
Instead of the water park, we wandered the streets of WD. They are packed with shops, but there weren't many people there – who knows, maybe the flood had an effect, or it being a weekday, or just off-season altogether. I bought myself some flip-flops (I was still hoping to get to the water park back then), a t-shirt made of thick cotton (heavy cotton). A funny thing, I haven't had one of those before. The t-shirt depicts four mosquitoes and the caption: “bite me”. In polite society this translates as “bite me”, but in reality bite is a synonym for the word suck, that is, to suck. However, the folksy Urban Dictionary tells us that nowadays this expression should be taken more like fuck off, that is, “get lost” in a ruder form – I hope the word fuck doesn't need to be translated for anyone at all.
Downtown WD
I also bought a colleague a little sign with a slogan that matches his style of humor (he's a South Park fan). The inscription on it read: “Some days you're the dog, some days you're the hydrant”, that is, “There are days when you are the dog, and there are days when you are the hydrant”. If you need the humor explained here, I'd better stay away from you.
There are also cute places like this
In the evening we went to a performance by the illusionist Rick Wilcox. Rick performs with his wife Suzan in a special building that he owns. The whole thing is called the Rick Wilcox Magic Theater. Rick is talented and famous - few magicians own their own enterprise like he does.
I haven't been to such performances before. We sat close up at my insistence, for which we bought more expensive tickets. But not in the front row – they took people from there for the performance. They say they're not plants, so if you want to be in the front row, they'll probably ask if you're going to participate in the show. If anyone knows, drop a line.
Oddly enough, there is no Wikipedia article about Rick. Maybe I overestimate his fame, but the performance impressed me a lot – how he pulls off such tricks is absolutely impossible to understand. By the way, my sister liked Rick's looks – says he's very charismatic and charming. I don't really like people, and especially glamorous pretty boys, so I don't find Rick particularly likable, but in the end, the show is the main thing, and it delivers. Especially since his wife, although no longer a spring chicken, is still not bad at all. (This phrase was inserted specifically for my colleagues, so they wouldn't try to accept me into their gay club).
Photo from here
From the performance I especially liked the simplest trick – with a rope that was either divided into parts, or lengthened, or shortened. It's probably not that hard to do, but it looks mind-blowing. If Rick's site isn't lying, there were about 300 tricks in total. In principle, you can believe it - after all, the show lasted 90 minutes. 4 people from the audience came on stage – from a five-year-old girl to a 60-year-old guy. Suzan changed an infinite number of dresses, skirts and shoes (Rick also changed more than one suit). In addition, for every show Rick invents something new – and in the summer they run every day, except Sunday. One hell of a job, I'll tell you.
Overall – just excellent. Everyone who hasn't been yet should go. A ticket for a close row costs $40, not cheap. But I still recommend getting one – so that the amazement penetrates deeper into your brain.
I'm having some kind of a creative crisis and writer’s block. Or maybe I'm so dull because my main source of inspiration – Wikipedia – is silent.
Since that's the case, I'll have to write for volume that in the evening we went to a restaurant called Hoolihan’s, that is, Hooligan's. I ate grilled ribs, because the sign said: “Best ribs in town", that is, "Best ribs in town". The dish, just like the first time, in the rainforest cafe, didn't impress me. But as an aperitif they served a little salad, and it was beyond praise. Fresh little salads, especially with vegetables, are to my liking. I also asked for tea. Even though they brought it in teabags, it was a whole wooden box with herbal blends to choose from. Naturally, according to the American custom, the stupid teabags had all sorts of impressive names. Following my sister's advice, I chose passion, that is, "passion". The boiling water and the mug were brought separately, the drink, which someone at our work calls "kompotik", wasn't bad.
Open from nine in the morning until midnight.
Oh, by the way, I came up with something interesting to amuse the readers. To me, the services of waiters still look wild. And that's all because I'm probably also a Soviet person, and I can't imagine how one can voluntarily work as a servant and a lackey. In my mind I understand that a modern waiter is not that at all, and they receive sufficient compensation for their labor, as is fashionable to say nowadays. But my ineradicable leftism tells me that it's not good to force people to do such a stupid job as bringing and taking away food on time.