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Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Manly, yes. But I like it too!

Okay, so last night was theater night. Again. Here's the thing. Yeah, I (read: we) go to a LOT of theater. This is because 1) We LIKE theater. Also movies and television and music. 2) We're in every discount club in town. We spend an inordinate amount of time cruising websites like "Facebook" for discount offers and freebies and are quite willing to dump previous plans because cheap or free tickets have come our way.

Over the course of the last five years or so, I have found myself in predicaments one normally finds one's 19 year old in and, quite honestly, although we manage to survive I still have the feeling that there's a great, big "FAIL" tattooed on my forehead. This, btw, is continuing this week, although after THIS one is done I tell myself "WTF, there CAN'T be anything more." Ha. And may I add Ha.

I assume this is the reason we spend so much of our time trekking to various palaces of theatrical arts. Because, well, watching people perform in the many and varied ways they come up with is nothing to sneeze at. It's good for a few hours of relief from the crap that I'm dealing with. To this end, I suppose, it's all about keeping me entertained. However, I have no qualms about leaving my hovel and finding traditional forms of other words, I go TO the entertainment, I do not expect the entertainment to come to me. I also expect the entertainment to have SAG or AFTRA cards in their pockets - insulting my neighbors, friends and in-laws, easy as it may be, doesn't exactly qualify.

This has been a real boom year for free and/or inexpensive entertainment, btw. "Hair" on rush, cost a QUARTER of what we would (or would NOT have) paid for the ticket. A really fun show called "Traces" which was a sort of grunge band Cirque (and thoroughly enjoyable) for the cost of the service charge on the ticket. Last night was "33 Variations" on comp.

Here's how it works. One spends most of one's time cruising Facebook and Twitter and, eventually, some sort of "oh crap, we've only sold a hundred tickets for tonight and the theater seats 1900, let's just GIVE 'em away" deal will pop up. You see, you call, you win!

We had two sets of two tickets last night. Catch as catch can, we had no clue where they would be until we picked them up at "will call". The morning of the show, the hubster knew he wouldn't make it, his cold was, well, a cold but he's a guy and you know how THAT goes. Well, I asked my large network of friends (which numbers 2, 3 on a good day which yesterday was NOT) and no one could make it on such short notice. I threw the extra ticket to my son. He went to HIS large network of friends which, is indeed large as he's extremely friendly and likable, and HE couldn't find anyone who could come on short notice, as schools everywhere are back in session.

Since not showing up to use comps is a serious faux pas the three of us found ourselves downtown, wondering about the vacant 4th seat. We entered the line for "Will Call" and were greeted by a very nice young man who asked me "Are you here to pick up tickets for (insert star of play's name here)?" My brain said "Actually, I'm sure Miss Star of Play has her seats accounted for already, I'm here to pick up tickets for myself" however, ever my mother's daughter. I simply smiled and said "yes." He directed us to an open window where we picked up two envelopes with tickets and my younger son said "I'm sorry, my date just flaked on me. Can I give one of these back to you so someone can use it?"

We were nervous, not using tickets you ordered CAN get you bumped from the cheap ticket club. The young man at the window, though, was sympathetic and said "let me check. One minute." He came back with the okay, looked at me and my older son and my younger, dateless son and said "Let me check if I can get you three together. I'm not sure I have them but it never hurts to look." We waited. He looked and then said "okay, let me have your other tickets so I can re-issue them." And that's how we traded one seat in Row B of the mezzanine and two seats in Row D of the mezzanine for THREE seats in the 12th row of the orchestra, right of center. This was, I realized, where the people who pay face for their tickets normally sit.

I immediately bolted for the ladies, I'd needed one since I arrived at the subway station. The FIRST subway station. There IS no ladies room at the subway station which is probably a logical move as no one in their right minds and most people no longer in their right minds would actually USE a public restroom in a subway station. I mean, if they're anything like the actual subway...

There was no line snaking out the restroom door waiting to get in. There was no line snaking through the restroom itself. It was immaculate. There were plenty of available roomettes. I decided the basic difference between rich people and the rest of the world is that rich people make sure they haven't left the seat cover stuck to the rim of the bowl when they leave the stall. I took care of business, washed up and stopped to check my hair and lipstick. There were little chairs at little ledges that resembled old fashioned dressing tables. There were floor to ceiling mirrors. I stepped out the door into a large, lobby like area. There were upholstered chairs and, against the wall, was a bar. Not a metal pergola type cart with airline bottles, plastic cups, cans of 7-Up and a "Cash Only" sign either. It was a really long bar, made of wood, with a rail. There were real bottles of real booze and breakable glassware to go with it. And a bartender in a red vest. I was stunned.

As I stood to let a party in past us I complemented the woman on her perfume. She didn't share what it was, to be honest, in the "it's almost curtain, get your butts IN" she probably didn't hear me. It was floral, not a LOT of different flowers. It was light and fresh. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I mean, you smell roses, you think "Joy" and you smell heavy spice you think "Opium" but this wasn't QUITE like that. After awhile though I began to feel as if she'd really overdone it, the scent lingered and seemed to be everywhere. I was both annoyed and smug, as I certainly know how NOT to fall into a vat of perfume, expensive or not.

A few minutes later, I realized my glasses had slipped down and I pushed them back up. I always do this by the bridge and not the earpieces. The scent became overwhelming. I was aware that it was on ME! WTH? Finally, as if I'd been smacked upside the head with a 2 x 4, it hit me. The clean, light floral fragrance that was everywhere WAS actually everywhere. It was the hand soap from the Ladies Lounge.

I spent way too much time this morning examining the various bottles on my dresser. Up until last night I thought my collection wasn't too shabby. "My Sin," "Shalimar," "Eau du Guerlain," "Tweed," "J'adore." However, as I looked at the bottles, I realized that nothing on that dresser smells quite as good as the hand soap in the downstairs can at the Music Center.

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