*Game of Thrones spoiler alert*
Until Sunday, I had never seen a bar fall into utter silence. We stared, our breath bated, our knuckles white against our frosted glasses of Ommegang. Beside me, a girl was crying, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the glow of six TVs.
Until Sunday, I had never seen a bar fall into utter silence. We stared, our breath bated, our knuckles white against our frosted glasses of Ommegang. Beside me, a girl was crying, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the glow of six TVs.
On screen, Shireen was burning as her father watched on.
This was my first experience at the Brazen Fox, a Manhattan bar on the corner of 3rd and 13th that attracts guests with "nerd culture." There are the usual sports, but there's also Dungeons & Dragons -- and, of course, Game of Thrones.
When we arrived at 8:00, the bar was crowded for the pregame show. That is, last week's episode. Fortunately, we were able to get a table, but soon afterwards the staff set up a waitlist as people flooded the bar.
Then, the opening theme.
I'll be honest: I expected commentary throughout the episode. I thought some dirtbag would spoil it, or wolf whistle at Dany, or make homophobic remarks regarding the Tyrells. That didn't happen. Not once. Everyone was quiet, respectful -- and united. I wouldn't have been surprised if we had held hands during Shireen's death.
Then, then…
It's no secret that Jorah is my favorite character. Not only is he a badass when it comes to fighting, his unrequited love for Daenerys is the best love story in the show. (Think about it: Jaime/Cersei, Jon/Ygritte, Tyrion/Shae). So I was on the edge of my seat when he stepped into the fighting pit.
And so, apparently, was everyone else.
The cheers erupted as soon as he started to fight. Every time he took a hit, we gasped. Every time he struck, we screamed. The applause was monstrous. Go Jorah go! Hit him! Get up! Please, get up! We were in the coliseum. We were there.
As the episode raced toward its climax, the cheers escalated. Naturally, my favorite moment happened when Daenerys accepted Jorah's hand, and my delighted scream joined four dozen others. Seriously, who needs football? We whooped and hollered for Tyrion, for Missandei, for Daario and Grey Worm and DROGON DROGON DROGON.
For Drogon, people jumped out of their seats, screaming as though the United States had just won the World Cup.
And it continued into the credits.
For me, Game of Thrones has always been a social event: a way to bond with my brother and mom, a common interest among my coworkers at Barnes & Noble, a part of college culture that involved Martell-esque Mirassou served in plastic wine glasses.
The Brazen Fox takes that to a whole new level. If you're in Manhattan next week, stop by for the finale. It's more than a show; it's an experience.
Then, the opening theme.
I'll be honest: I expected commentary throughout the episode. I thought some dirtbag would spoil it, or wolf whistle at Dany, or make homophobic remarks regarding the Tyrells. That didn't happen. Not once. Everyone was quiet, respectful -- and united. I wouldn't have been surprised if we had held hands during Shireen's death.
Then, then…
It's no secret that Jorah is my favorite character. Not only is he a badass when it comes to fighting, his unrequited love for Daenerys is the best love story in the show. (Think about it: Jaime/Cersei, Jon/Ygritte, Tyrion/Shae). So I was on the edge of my seat when he stepped into the fighting pit.
And so, apparently, was everyone else.
 |
| How can anyone NOT ship this? Ugh, be still my heart. |
The cheers erupted as soon as he started to fight. Every time he took a hit, we gasped. Every time he struck, we screamed. The applause was monstrous. Go Jorah go! Hit him! Get up! Please, get up! We were in the coliseum. We were there.
As the episode raced toward its climax, the cheers escalated. Naturally, my favorite moment happened when Daenerys accepted Jorah's hand, and my delighted scream joined four dozen others. Seriously, who needs football? We whooped and hollered for Tyrion, for Missandei, for Daario and Grey Worm and DROGON DROGON DROGON.
For Drogon, people jumped out of their seats, screaming as though the United States had just won the World Cup.
And it continued into the credits.
For me, Game of Thrones has always been a social event: a way to bond with my brother and mom, a common interest among my coworkers at Barnes & Noble, a part of college culture that involved Martell-esque Mirassou served in plastic wine glasses.
The Brazen Fox takes that to a whole new level. If you're in Manhattan next week, stop by for the finale. It's more than a show; it's an experience.
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