Dinner at Palais Jad Mahal

Jad Mahal is in Hivernage (literally translated: overwintering) it's where all the BIG plush western hotels are located. Posh boulevards, manicured gardens and old people. Did I mention the old people? I'll get to them later.

Anyway .. The Arab militia at the door was my first hurdle, finally after some pretty bad Aussie accent they let us in to talk to the hostess.
Does the description Pussycat Dolls on crack conjure up a picture in your mind? Well, she's her little old ladies granma.
Thigh high black leather boots ended with a good 6 inches of flesh before her amazing legs met her ass in matching leather hot pants. Then as if to strike a balance, she had a teeny, sprayed on white business shirt on top.
Unbuttoned to the waist with a black leather PUSH UP bra (here they are!) underneath.
Kind of like business on top and party down below.
Long black hair for days. I'm talking uber riah extreme.
She had so many weaves on her scalp that she'd have to sit up to sleep.
We came for dinner but I immediately began to wonder "where's the party?" ... Or more "where's the drag queen, hooker, pole dancer, hair expo convention gurlfriend?" snap snap snap.

She escorted us to a table through the darkest restaurant I've ever not seen, finally when my eyes adjusted I knew why the word Palais prefixed their name.
This was a huge square building with a massive courtyard pond in the centre (pond = dam) across the pond stretched a catwalk covered in red Moroccan carpets. Inside gilt and Moroccan decoration competed for attention with velvets and cut glass lampwork, blah, blah, blah.
It was spectacular.
I'm kinda raving on a bit now, I've been giving myself a word limit and blown it already, so I'll cut to the ladies with flaming tea services on their heads.
A Moroccan tradition so I'm told.
After dinner was showtime. First come a dozen ladies balancing large flaming silver trays atop their heads, holding tea pot, half dozen tea glasses and 10 lit dinner candles. Bad photo exhibits #1.
Then come twenty or so belly dancers, this woke the old folk up who had gotten tired with squinting into their tagines trying to see what they were eating.
Next to me a Spanish Blake Carrington got his camera out so quickly I though he was going to wake his wife up, she was very cosy in a pile of velvet cushions against the wall.
Twenty five minutes later (leave them wanting more never occurred to the producers of this show) the dancers moved to the catwalk for a bit of Moroccan belly-line dancing. Bad photo exhibit # 2.
The old folk were all awake now and would make it back to their plush hotels before morning (just down the road) if they left now, the night club opened post show but I passed on that option.
Apparently so did Lindsay Lohan a while back who ended up in the dam when she joined in the line dancing .. Now I wish I'd come to that convention!