theater with Penny (lyn)

I get up thinking that today is going to be one of those nice days when I don’t leave the house.  I shower, put on some hang-around comfy clothes, and sit down at the computer.  I spend the morning answering emails, looking for a job, and working on the summer internship program for Horace Mann.

In late morning, I get an email from Penny.  She has $4 tickets to an off-Broadway play that I told her I wanted to see, Gruesome Playground Injuries at Second Stage.  I want to go but I don’t want to leave my house and venture outside in the dark sub-freezing weather with an annoying cold and sore throat I feel creeping into me.  I wish I could do both:  stay at home and see a play.  I’ve managed that with first-run movies, but obviously that’s not possible with theater.  I usually have to fight with Alexander for use of the living room when I have friends over to see a movie. I try to imagine the conversation if I were to say, “Listen, tonight I’m having the cast of Hamlet over to perform in the living room.  You might want to make plans to go out.”

So now I have to put on makeup.  Eat an early dinner.  And put on some less lounge-y looking clothes.  In an effort to save both money and points, last night I sliced my large turkey burger down the middle so I could have the other half tonight.  Before Penny arrives at 7, I eat what mostly tastes like a lettuce and honey-mustard sandwich.

We get to the theater and all I want is hot tea.  There’s a sweet little café there, with an equally sweet waiter.  I order tea and love the feel of it gliding down my throat.   But when I try to bring it into the theater, I’m stopped.  “No hot drinks allowed.  I’m sorry, we can’t take the risk of it spilling on someone.”  I figure the risk is minimal and contemplate sneaking in with my dangerous tea anyway, but I don’t want to get thrown out.  Five years ago I was at this same theater with Penny (she had invited me to usher with her).  The officious house manager (who is still here and on duty tonight) made us stand during the entire first act despite there being plenty of available seats.  I challenged him, which resulted in his later saying to Penny, “Your friend is never allowed to usher here again.”  So in fairness to Penny, I behave.

The play has promise but doesn’t deliver.  And the abrupt end falls flat.  I get home and plop into bed, happy to be in again.