Have you ever been to one of those Middle Ages dinner theatre places? If you are unaware, here’s a great thing to explain the entrepreneurial spirit. And the ever lasting power of a good marriage.

There are a couple different ones; the place on 35 in Dallas is kind of the big daddy of them all, in my opinion.

Set in an arena, there is a dirt floor/stage and real horses with knights who joust for the chance to woo the king’s daughter-in-law. Waitresses order you up off a standard menu…couple of soup/salad choices and that’s it.  Knights ride …fight with audio-enhanced swords…you cheer for your knight’s color (crowd is divided in a few sections or colors) and at the end, one knight hustles up to claim the hand of said maiden.

Actually started in Spain in the late 70’s as an outdoor deal, it’s moved to indoor arenas since and they have a few around the US. That’s the background. You may like it or not and I’m not expressing an opinion as to how good a job they do. I’m looking at it from another angle.

See, this was a new business once.  I cheer for new businesses; love to see folks making a go of it. Some people look at a menu or coupon and say, “Ew…you think the food is any good?” or “Man, that looks weird.” When I look at them, I see OPPORTUNITY!  Why?  Well, this is a great example to bring up and here’s why.

When it comes to this dinner theatre place, at some point a guy sat in his living room, put down his beer, turned to his wife and said, *burp* “Say, I was thinking we start this business.  What we’ll do is have people dress as knights, ride around on horses, pretend joust and they can win…oh…the hand of the Princess.”

His wife’s response? Nada.

That’s right…dead silence.  She was watching TV. He could have said, “Honey, I’ve blown up St. Bartholomew’s and I’m going back to firebomb the rest of the block,” and she wouldn’t have said a word.  Hubby continued.

“We’ll serve food and, oh!  Let’s not give them any silverware…they have to eat with their fingers.  Yeah!  Awesome!  And…AND…being medieval and all…we’ll call the servers ‘wenches’ and the guests will have to call them that too! Haha!  Bingo!  ‘Hey, wench!  Bring me my mead!”

By this time the wife was probably actually listening; the word wench would be my bet as the trigger on that deal.

“You’ll call them what?”

“Wench! Have them in those long skirts and the billowing beige blouses.  Mmm-hmm.”

Now, I ask you; what are most woman/wives doing at this point?  Well thank goodness that guy’s wife was open-minded enough.  Or hard of hearing. Either way, it is a testament to the pioneer spirit, courage, and intestinal fortitude of one man.  Here it is years later and the place(s) are wildly successful, but all because that wife believed in her…because she…hold on, I need a moment to compose myself…

What’s that?  Am I setting myself up here for something?  No, no.  Not at all. No. 

Did you get your packet of direct mail coupons the other day? Ever seen the one with this woman in the picture?

She pitches some hand cream that eliminates spots, and I’m sure she’s a lovely woman in real life, but this thing gives me the shivers. Know how clowns freak some people out?  This picture does it for me. Go ahead stare at her for a minute…gives you the willies too, doesn’t it?

Here’s what I want to know: who in the h-e double toothpicks looked at the final proof on this ad and said, “Dude, let’s run with it. It is awesome!” Wow! If this picture was around when my kids were little…(time travel music) 

“Big Sis, go do your homework!”

“Naw, I don’t want to.”

(I hold up the picture)

“Father, sir…no, please! I’ll do my homework. And Brother’s too. Ahhhhh! My eyes! My eyes!”

Not that I would have done that. More than a couple times. 

Maybe as the picture was taken, did someone stick a gun in her back?  That’s how I look when someone jacks me; not only are my hands spot free, but the rest of me is pigment, blood and breath free too.  It’s not really a smile, by the way, but a moment of frozen time right before the terror bubbles over. 

Or maybe it has to do with my dogs.

We have a doggy door on our house that goes out into the backyard. I accidently left it shut the other morning; discovered the mistake when I snuck home for lunch. Means for five hours the dogs sat locked in the house, and they are outside dogs. Unhappy outside dogs that day. I bet they put a hit out on me, and the first person they contacted was this woman. Why do I say that?  Just look at her, guy!

“Ha ha!” she’s saying to me. “You, sir, are smoked!”

So if these blogs suddenly stop, please check your mail carefully.  If you open next month’s coupons and she has an even bigger, more lunatic look…call the policía