Today, Mom and I saw a matinee of the play, "Seminar."
The script was good, the actors were good, the set was pretty...all of it. Good.
What wasn't good, you ask? Why, clearly you know what to expect from MY blog, don't you? You, Gentle Reader, recognize that complaining about something is infinitely more entertaining that talking about how much we liked a play. So, thank you. Thank you for reading- and becoming familiar with- my blog.
On to the griping.
1. The seats at the Goldman Theatre are teeny tiny, which is fine spatially, because we are not "great big ol' fat people," to quote Silence of the Lambs' Jame Gumb. What stinks (literally) about them is the proximity you are to your neighbor's smelly air. This smelly air can come in many forms. Today, I thought it was old lady farts, but it might have been horrendous rot breath. Mom thought it was the stench of preteen B.O. from the kid in front of us. In any event, we were close enough to smell air coming out of another person.
2. There's a cute pre-show recording reminding people to not only turn off their cell phones, but to take a moment to check to be sure they're off. What the announcement doesn't say, is "unwrap your freaking candy NOW." What is about a play that makes people want to suck on hard candy? This play wasn't "Oh, Calcutta," and it didn't take place in a lollipop factory, so nothing about the play itself would inspire people to rummage in their purses during the quietest part of the show and ssslllooooowwwllllllllyyyyyy unwrap a candy to suck on. Awhile back, we produced a play where my character handed out candy to the audience, but I was smart enough to buy candy with soft, noiseless, paper wrappers. I'm no dummy.
3. Akin to the hard candy eater, there was the Plastic Bag Rustler. Maybe his noisy candy was located deeeeeep in a noisy plastic bag, but again- make your noise before the show starts. That sound carries, prompting strangers -whether or not they are former teachers- to "shush" you during the show. You know, these bags are outlawed in Rwanda. They are illegal, and will be taken away from you at customs if you try to bring them into the country. Why can't we search people on the way into the theatre? In college, I worked security at several concerts, and once got to search purses for pot and other contraband at the Metallica show. I walked away with a pipe and a little weed...which I promptly turned over to the proper authorities. Because at the time, we were all authorities on something.
There were other mild complaints: too many (very) late arrivals, a handicap stall in a restroom whose main doors were too skinny for wheelchairs, and $21 double glasses of wine (overheard, and sadly, not ordered.)
But all in all, the show was great.
It's the audience who brought too much drama.
Actually, didn't I get to keep the pipe? It was made out of chicken bone. Don't you miss South Carolina? I mean, where else would you get to keep a CHICKEN BONE PIPE? and break up sex acts in the bathroom of a Metallica concert? No, wait, in two bathrooms!
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