half a play

I go to theater often. Not as much as I used to, but still more than most.

I favor the intimacy of an off-Broadway theater. Prefer a good drama to anything else. And especially love the 90-minute one acts. Big Broadway musicals fall to the bottom of my list. 

But when Susan asks me a couple of weeks ago if I'd like to see She Loves Me, a new production of a 1978 show, I recklessly said yes. The reviews are all raves. Four or five stars from all the major critics.

But as the day grows closer, my interest wanes. The play is two acts, two hours and 30 minutes. Our seats are inexpensive, and likely to be in the mezzanine. It's a sweet and sappy musical of boy-meets-girl and fall in love, eventually.  What was I thinking?

Last night my throat feels scratchy and I have a headache.  Maybe I'll really be sick. I send Susan a text to warn her of the possibility and ask if she wants to find someone else. She says she'll wait and see how I feel in the morning.

I awake feeling fine, despite (or maybe because of) the winter weather.

And I always like seeing Susan.  So I go.

Similar to my other regular theater buddies (Meredith and Jill), Susan doesn't care if I decide to leave at intermission. 

Our seats are dead center, first mezzanine, and actually pretty good.  The play lives up to the reviews. But still, after the 75 minute first act I decide to leave.  Susan stays on and reports back later with a short synopsis, ending with:

And they all lived happily ever after. I enjoyed it . 

I liked getting home by 10:30, versus an hour later — especially in sub-freezing weather.

There's only one musical I really want to see, but I'm not willing to pay $800 a seat.

Does anyone know anyone who can get me two tickets for Hamilton at face value? Those three hours I'd happily sit through.