Wenching-A-Go-Go
For some reason, whenever anyone comes up this way to head over to the Medieval Times in Lyndhurst for dinner and a tournament, I get the call. “Hey, do you want to go to Medieval Times?” Sigh. Not really – but I’m not one to decline from social activity and I do love eating with my hands – so I always go.
I’m not trying to dissuade anyone from the corny feudal fun. It’s a great place to bring kids. It’s hilarious if you get loaded on mead and bring your most obnoxious friends. And the food (half a chicken, a rib, garlic bread, soup, an herbed potato and dessert) is actually good. It’s dinner and a show for only 60 bucks (gratuity and alcohol not included).
But I’m not here to bring you the point of view of some doe-eyed tourist who wandered out of Manhattan for the day to experience the joys of outlet shopping and jousting contests. I’m here to bring you the view of a jaded Jersey Girl who has definitely been there and done that.
To those of you who aren’t familiar with Medieval Times, here’s the deal. As you walk in, they assign you to a particular knight (red, green, red and yellow, black and white, blue and yellow). You wear the corresponding burger king-style paper crown and are forced to get your picture taken with either King Alfonso or Princess Esmerelda as you enter. They take great offense if you decline.
Since you were encouraged to arrive an hour before show time, you have lots of time to kill at one of the many bars or even more plentiful gift shop areas – both viciously overpriced. If you have an extra two dollars to spare, you can even take a tour of the torture chamber and have your picture taken in the stockade with the executioner holding his axe to your neck.
Once the show starts, you file into the stadium-style seating, as directed by the King’s right hand man. There will be little conversation as it is incredibly loud and you will be sitting at a long counter-like table, only able to hear the person right next to you. Serving wenches and serfs brings out food while bar wenches take drink orders. People try to sell you souvenirs and the pictures you were forced to take earlier in the evening.
{spoiler} A jousting tournament begins and goes ugly when the palace sorcerer brings news that there is a traitor among them. The contest is now to the death. But the princess saves the life of her lover so that when all of the good, noble knights are dead, there is still someone left to take out the turncoat and save the day. Who doesn’t love a happy ending? {end spoiler}
The plot is not the only constant. There is always a list of people celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, engagements (lame) and bachelor parties (way lame) that is read aloud for what seems like an eternity. There is never any silverware and anyone who sneaks some in (or outside food for a picky child) will be pointed out and mocked. And some wonderful asshole in the blue section will always call out to his knight, “You’re my boy, Blue! You’re my boy! You look glorious!”
The charm of attending Medieval Times as a North Jersey native is that you will probably see a serf or wench that you went to high school with. This is not to say that you will be served by some Gina Spaghetti-head in wench-attire. It is just as professionally handled as any other branch of the chain. My only complaint is that it kind of destroys the suspension of disbelief. What if I thought I’d actually traveled back to 11th century Spain? I know my high school volleyball captain wouldn’t have been there serving garlic bread and now all I can think about is the poor life choices she must’ve made since graduation.
When my sister and I go, we like to keep a running tally of all the people we know. Between the two of us we know a horse trainer, a serf, a serving wench, a photo wench, and a trumpeter who, surprise, was in the high school band. According to the photo wench, sometimes the king and the princess like to get trashed with the wenches and serfs whenever they don’t have to be seated at their royal thrones.
It’s weird to know these inner secrets. I suppose it’s the same kind of troubling information people in the Orlando area have about the Disney characters marching around the Magic Kingdom. Sure, to you and me it might be Pooh Bear, but to Janice Smithendorf, it might be her 23-year-old pot-head brother who took the job to pay his way through Devry.
The other perk, as a single lass, is that North Jersey is one of only seven places in the U.S. where you can be at a bar, ask a guy his occupation, and find out that he’s a knight or ick a squire. Sure, you might get a well-placed lance joke out of the encounter, but then what? Does this man have a future? I’ve often wondered how high that ladder climbs. Sure, the squires are knights in training, but where do you go from there?
Perhaps, ladies, if you have that knight-on-a-white-horse fantasy about finding the perfect man, this is just the area to hang out in. And fortunately for you, after the tournament, you can dance the night away in the Medieval Times “Knight Club,” where the knights and nobility come out to mingle with patrons, sign autographs, and take pictures.
Medieval Times Dinner & Tournament
149 Polito Ave
Lyndhurst
(201) 933-7608
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to our RSS feed!
Every summer I look forward to the state fair at the Meadowlands. My enthusiasm is chiefly based on my love for rickety carnival rides. Far more exciting than anything at a major theme park, the rides at the fair invoke that little, lingering fear that a structurally significant bolt will pop out at any moment.
