Picture it: May 26, 2010. It’s a really hot New York day. The sun is beating down against the glass on the sides of buildings so you cannot avoid the heat. My clothes are sticking to my body and I am miserably uncomfortable, but being the avid lover of having new experiences that I am, I decide the heat is not going to prevent me from attending a planned event. This was another one of those nights where my calendar simply had an address and time to show up with no other knowledge about what I was in for. This model often works great because it allows me to keep an open mind about the experience I am about to have. It’s not a fool-proof model.
It turns out, I am about to see a one-woman show off-Broadway. Sounds innocent enough. The show is so far off Broadway, it was practically in New Jersey! But still that doesn’t detract me. The trek ends up not being too bad, and my thoughts of “what in the hell were you thinking, G?” have started to subside. The theater holds about 30 people, so it’s definitely going to be an intimate experience. I’m starting to get excited. On the way in, my friend who procured the tickets let me know that he contacted the press office at the theater and though they would love the publicity, taking photos of the performer before, during or after the performance is strictly prohibited. Fair enough.
The venue is open seating and my friend and I choose the 2nd row, so as not to make the performer nervous by sitting in the front row with our devilishly handsome selves. It’s about a minute before show time and as of yet, the seats right in front of us are empty. Score! With about 5 seconds before curtain, the person pictured below sits in front of me.