Zorba, aRRyana and I

from Robin's File & Story Archives

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"Zorba, aRRyana and I"

Ever since I was a boy, I have enjoyed going to special theatrical events. One of the few things I enjoy more than going to an event is taking someone with me, and I enjoy doing this as part of a surprise even more.

In January 1983, Anthony Quinn was playing the titular lead in Zorba the Greek at the Golden Gate Theater in San Francisco. As part of the promotion for this event, a local radio station was holding an on-air contest. If one of their listeners called in and told the announcer Anthony Quinn's country of birth, you would win two tickets to the opening night of his show at the Golden Gate Theatre.

I was returning home from my parent's home in Mountain View. Multiple callers were calling in with the wrong answers, so I decided to try my luck by placing a call to the station. I won that pair of tickets.

One of the advantages of the relationship I had with aRRyana was that she was my submissive partner. With only six hours until showtime, I told her how to dress for an evening out, but I did not disclose our destination. We drove to the waterfront and had dinner at Sinbad's restaurant. I asked Tommy, one of the restaurant's owners, to arrange for a limo to pick aRRyana and me up at the restaurant and drive us to the theater. Sitting in the back of the limo, I told her to remain silent and instructed her how I wanted her to sit.

She still did not know where we were going. In aRRyana's mind, she foresaw playing out O's trip to Roissy, or worse. None of the above.

By using the limo service, we arrived right at the front door, there were no parking or valet issues, AND she did not have to walk very far in a short dress and high heels.

The tickets included the show (excellent seats!), a cordial greeting in the foyer by the radio station staff, autographed playbills, musical albums, backstage passes, and a meet and greet with Mister Quinn,

After we thoroughly enjoyed the show, the limo took us back to Sinbad's so I could retrieve my car and enjoy a glass of wine, coffee, and dessert.

On the way home, I ordered her not to speak to anyone about our outing for 72 hours. She spent the next three days floating around the building, wanting to tell someone about our evening but bound to silence.

After all, you must remember sadism is not just whips and chains.

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