WHEN I DESIRE quality entertainment, I think Rainier Square! Sure, it's a hideous example of late '80s mall architecture, and yes, it does boast useless shops like the KCTS Public Television Tote-Bag Emporium and the Kelly-Green Golf Skirt Hut. But behind its bunker-like façade hides a truly bizarre restaurant. For six years, I traipsed past the hulking eyesore daily without even a whiff of its existence, so when I was asked to see a dinner musical revue at Crêpe de Paris, I lurched at the chance. Ooh-la-la! I was not disappointed. I was greeted at the door by the owner, a very tiny, authentically French lady--speaking French!

Perhaps the Gallic people's fabled desire to resist progress explains the jaw-dropping décor of her establishment: a slice of 1972 held in suspended animation. Chrome, mirrors, worn orange leather, molded Plexiglas, and--I kid you not--ferns. This is the sort of place a chukka-boot-wearing therapist would have brought a patient for seduction after a particularly arousing primal-scream session. Who else would come here? I glanced around. Ladies with manicured nails, gigantic diamond rings, and tastefully lightened coifs. Men with thinning hair, bleached teeth, and creased slacks. This diorama boasts perfect re-creations of a dying species.

You think wealthy, white wax-people are boring? Au contraire, mon frère! Pour a bottle of wine under their braided belts, and they are capable of chuckling out loud. You too might find the wigs and songs in this extended skit about three Caucasian gals in a Motown-era girl group amusing, especially if you've been curious about the films of John Waters but don't cotton to all that vomit. So, if you popped into the Rainier Square Mall to purchase a polo shirt emblazoned with ducks, be sure to stay for the slightly naughty but ultimately acceptable fun!