What would make an epic moment for you?

Everyone has their dream moment. For me, it would be meeting Churchill for a few drinks, a cigar, and a nice, long chat. Sure, he would be mostly dead and the conversation pretty one-sided, but that would be a highlight of my life.

For The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World, we would come close to making a dream come true and we didn’t even have to pay the Rock to let her stroke his chest.

After seeing the city from the Empire State Building and then me fondling all the board game boxes in a legendary gaming store, we raced home via the subway to get changed into our good clothes.

See, we were going to see Chicago tonight. On Broadway. The second thing The-Oldest wanted to do on this trip. His other MUST-SEE.

We met my youngest cousin at a Mexican restaurant mostly situated underground, or more properly, below street level. I love that NYC has levels. Some high. Some very low. The ones below street level, though, seem like secret spots to me. Something special.

We had a lovely supper and got caught up with our cousin, laughing a lot and listening to her NY stories. She was such wonderful company.

But then it was time to see the musical. We went up into the lights of Times Square and made our way to equally impressively lit Broadway. Oddly, The-Youngest and our cousin were the most excited. Personally, I didn’t think this was going to be anything super fun, though long ago, in another life, I saw Les Miserables and it changed my life (I was forced to admit I LOVE musicals).

We had great seats in the balcony, on the edge, to the right. Much to The-Oldest’s joy, the orchestra was located on the actual stage – as part of the performance. Musicians, he believes, should be seen and not just heard.

The musical itself was excellent. The story was good. It’s about two chorus girls who are charged with murder and how they plan to use that to their advantage. The singers were amazing, the flow on stage flawless and whenever the cast interacted with the orchestra, The-Oldest would nod like order had suddenly been restored in the world.

But it wasn’t until one of the supporting characters came out – A big woman who played Mama Morton, aka Mama –  that something odd happened.

Immediately, The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World started bouncing up and down in her seat and making very quiet but excited oh, oh, oh, oh, oh noises. Not sitting beside her, I was only able to give her a quizzical look.

Turns out, the woman was one of her favourite Drag Queens. Jinkx Monsoon. Actually, I think The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World was mouthing Jinkx’s name at me but I thought she was staying “It stinks,” (which was kind of rude and did not explain her excitement) instead of “It’s Jinkx!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Honestly, she, he… errrrr hold on, *loads up proper pronouns* right, SHE was fantastic. She had a presence on stage, like someone born to be up there. She owned that part with gusto and glee. No wonder The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World was a fan.

A quick link here if you want to check her out.

Afterwards, as we walked out, The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World still bouncing up and down like someone had put slinkies in her shoes, I saw we could wait to see the performers. Apparently, that was a thing. Who knew?

So, I convinced The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World to stay. Maybe we could see Jinkx? Maybe we could get a photo of her?

 The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World went shy all of a sudden. She wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, but all of us pitched in and said, “You have to get a picture!”

Someone smarter than me thought we should position ourselves beside the tall limo idling by the curb, and so we waited. We saw the other performers all come out. We took pictures and told them we were sorry to have taken their pictures but gosh, golly, they were amazing (I mean, we’re Canadians. We have to say nice things if someone comes up to us.)

Then Jinkx came out and we had to stop The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World from running away. Trembling, gripping her program like she was a teenager waiting for Duran-Duran, she stood behind the rope line, hoping and fearing Jinkx would come over.

But that someone-smarter-than-me knew we had a good spot. She couldn’t get into her limo without us stopping her. And stop her we did. Or I did. After she signed The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World’s program, I asked in a very nice and polite and completely Canadian way “I’m so sorry, but would you mind if we took a picture of you and my wife? She’s an epic fan.”

And Jinkx, without hesitation, with a big smile, mouthed, “Yes, of course.” (she was saving her voice). And like years ago when The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World got her picture taken with the Fonz, she got her picture taken with the amazing Jinkx.

The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World bounced away with a smile of pure happiness on her face, hugging her program like it was her first grandchild.

The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World was in heaven.

We thanked our cousin for sharing this with us and we made our way back home, stopping only to gawk at a DeLorean.

What a great day. An epic day. Even for The-Prettiest-Girl-in-the-World, who had, up to this point, pretty much endured lots of sweaty humidity and sore feet.

It was a day you could only have in New York City.

It would be hard to beat, but I think we did.