M and I have tickets to Beautiful, the new Broadway musical
about Carole King. At the end ot its two and a half hours, M turns to me and says, "I could sit here and watch it all over again." We both love it.
We have great third row
seats. The theater’s been recently
renovated and the seats are comfortable with decent legroom. Sort of like being in first class. Except some of the people surrounding us
should be in coach, if that.
Behind us is a couple who
appear to be dating. They are all over
each other. Heads on each other’s
shoulders. Loving gazes. And the need to comment after every single scene. A ringing cell phone would be less annoying. When the play ends, they rush
the stage. They appear to be in their late 70's.
Then there is the hooker
with a Trump look-alike. She is dressed in a
thigh-high black mesh dress. Her hand
never leaves her date's crotch. She's not even secretive.
M tries to surreptitiously
take their picture with an iPhone until the usher warns her that photography is not allowed.
The play is
fantastic. And so is the tapestry of intriguing people who have come to see it.
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