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The Doctor Who Lolita Slumber Party
Peter Tatara - April 3, 2010

Doctor Who is a British television program (or programme) about a man with two hearts who travels through time and space inside a blue box with an assortment of lady friends and -- on occasion -- a robot dog. It's the longest running TV show in history and beloved the world over. Really.

Lolita fashion is an umbrella term for a family of Japanese clothing styles that range from childlike to obtusely erotic that all draw their inspiration from a lacy, frilly period of French history that never really happened. It's been around Japan for a decade or so and has recently become the center of a growing subculture the world over. Really.

Now close your eyes and picture two circles inside your head. If you're still reading this, you didn't close your eyes, now did you? That's okay. If you closed your eyes, you'd miss out on all the thousand or so words that follow. Then again, I've got no clue if there'll anything of merit, or if it'll just be poorly-placed digressions, so maybe it is smarter for you to just shut your eyes and catch up on some sleep. Nope? Staying with me? Okay, let's actually get on topic. Picture two circles inside your head. Let's label the left "Doctor Who Fans" and the right "Lolita Aficionados". If you'd prefer to make "Lolita Aficionados" the circle on the left, that's okay, too. We'll still get the same outcome. What is this outcome? Bring the two circles together. Not all the way, but just a bit, so we've got some "Doctor Who Fans" circle on one side, some "Lolita Aficionados" circle on the other, and right in the middle, an area of overlap. This overlapping area should be labeled something like "Girls Who Like Doctor Who And Lolita Fashion", and it exists. And there are at least six in New York City alone.

Wipe the above Venn diagram out of your head. Instead, throw up a map of New York City. Find Central Park. Got it? Go to the bottom. You're around 59th Street. Draw a line East. Hit the river? Keep on going. You're now in Queens, hitting Long Island City, Sunnyside, and then -- a few dozen of blocks in -- Woodside. Queens's Sunnyside and Woodside areas are wonderful, eclectic, quaint, vibrant neighborhoods. They've got the best of the big city, just enough distance to have some peace and quiet, an atlas full of astonishing restaurants, and an unassuming attitude made up of the collective consciousness of their blue collar residents and writer, musician, and artisan brethren. And -- last weekend -- they got one more accolade. They were the epicenter of NYC's "Girls Who Like Doctor Who And Lolita Fashion".

There was a Doctor Who Lolita Slumber Party going on last Saturday. A gathering of a half dozen girls who like ruffles and dudes with two hearts, it ran from 2 PM and straight on till morning. They started off with 2005's "Rose" -- the first episode of the modern Doctor Who era -- and went through highlights including "The Christmas Invasion", "The Impossible Planet," "The Satan Pit," "The Shakespeare Code," "Gridlock," "Human Nature," "The Family of Blood," "Blink," "Utopia," "The Sound of Drums," "Last of the Time Lords," "Partners In Crime," "The Fires of Pompeii," "Silence in The Library," and "Forest of The Dead." These episodes could collectively be called some of Doctor Who's best. And I say this meaning that they're my favorites.

And why are NYC's Doctor Who-loving Lolitas watching my favorite episodes? Maybe because I programmed the thing with my girlfriend. In the interest of full disclosure, I know so much about Sunnyside and Woodside because I live there, and my girlfriend was hosting the shindig. Although, while she and I saw eye-to-eye on the episode selection, she disagreed with the rest of my slumber party concepts.

Apparently, girls at slumber parties don't have tickle fights, set up webcams, play spin the bottle, or do anything with bananas. Movies and television tell me it isn't a slumber party unless at least three of these four factors are involved, but my girlfriend was pretty adamant none of 'em actually occur. In their place, she planned a loose schedule of snacking, dinner, sleep, and then a big wrap-up brunch. The snack menu included cheese balls and both potato and tortilla chips, dinner was via pizza delivery from quintessential NYC pizzeria Lentini's, dreams were ushered in on an unfurled futon, air mattress, and sleeping bags, and finally brunch was at the award-winning Quaint on Skillman Avenue.

I agreed with my girlfriend's choice of Quaint for the brunch. It's been ranked as one of Queens's best restaurants, and its brunch selection in inspired, from its delicate goat cheese and fresh herb omelet all the way to its show-stopping caramelized banana challah French toast. Other than this, however, I think the girlfriend was going at it all wrong. Lolitas love make-believe Rococo fashion, so their slumber party should have been similarly ornate. Lady fingers, petits fours, creme brulee, and sparkling wine. Hell, with Doctor Who about a romantic lost prince who has mastery over time and space, the slumber party should have been set up under the conceit it's a dinner party for The Doctor thrown by Madame de Pompadour. Instead, my girlfriend was serving cheese balls? Sigh.

I couldn't force my will upon the menu or agenda, though, as I was away on business during the party. In fact, that's why my girlfriend hosted the thing. With me away, she decided to throw an event with friends, and for some bonkers-cuckoo-daffy-screwball-insane reason, she decided on a Doctor Who Lolita slumber party. I do love her ever so much.

And, so, while I was away from her for work, she was determined to drive me mad by staging a pajama party with her similarly bonkers-cuckoo-daffy-screwball-insane friends.

Yet, on the eve of this party, time and space apparently broke my way, for my trip was cut short, and I came home just after her slumber party began. I called her as I got into Queens. No answer. I called her again as I was a block away. No answer. I called her a third time outside my building. I knocked four times on our apartment door. No answer.

Opening the door, I saw six Lolitas staring, breathless and mouths ajar, at "The Doctor Dances", all wrapped up, wishing, wanting to be the woman whisked away by the impossible man. They made not a move nor a sound as I shut the door, put my bags down, and took off my coat. I hid in the bedroom until morning.

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