He Who Laughs, Or The Complete Idiot's Guide to Intimacy

A View from the Bridge: Opening Night Report

January 25, 2010 · 6 Comments

PAPARAZZI OUTSIDE: Are you Ryan Reynolds?  Are you Naomi Watts?

ME: No.

PAPARAZZI OUTSIDE: Fuck you then.

ME: All right then, I’ll just, uh, take my ticket and proceed to the …

THE BALCONY: That’s right, bitch.  Get up here.

THE STAIRS: You’re poor, you’re poor, you’re poor.

ME: (gasping for breath) More?

THE BALCONY: Ascend, peasant!

THE USHER: (to a woman) Ma’am!  Ma’am!  I said the second row down.  You’re going too far.

THE WOMAN: (to anyone who will listen) Boy, they see a senior and think we can’t follow directions!

THE FACT OF THE MATTER: You can’t, ma’am.

EVERYONE IN THE BALCONY: (leaning forward) Are Ryan Reynolds and Naomi Watts down there?

EVERYONE IN THE ORCHESTRA: Not yet.

EVERYONE IN THE BALCONY: Fuck you then.

THE WOMAN AT THE END OF MY ROW: (to each and every person who climbed over her to get to their seats) I can’t believe an opening night performance was on TDF!  I couldn’t believe my eyes!  Could you?  Did you get your ticket on TDF, too?  You didn’t?  How much did you pay?  Oh my god, that much?  I only paid $34, and here we are sitting right next to each other.  $34, that’s all.  And that’s with the service fee!  It’s not worth it to pay more.

EVERYONE IN MY ROW: It might be worth it to kill you.

THE PLAY: Shut up, all of you.  I’m starting.

THE MAN NEXT TO ME: Mmm, yummy yummy, I love biting and chewing on my nails with my mouth open.  What a treat!

LIEV SCHREIBER’S VOICE: I am gorgeous and sonorous and a theatrical treasure.  I am the  butter that melts, golden, on the waffle brought to you in bed by a bearded Jon Hamm on a wintry morning.  I can even leap to the balcony without aid.

EVERYONE IN THE BALCONY: Thank you!

THE WOMAN AT THE END OF MY ROW: I paid less for you!

LIEV SCHREIBER’S VOICE: Someone give her a little push.  No?  I gotta do everything around here?

THE ENTIRE AUDIENCE: (trembling with ecstasy) Don’t.  Stop.  Making words and sounds.  With your mouth.

THE MAN NEXT TO ME: You all can keep your popcorn and pretzels and Sour Patch Kids.  Give me fingernails!  Ten fingers, ten nails, ten fantastic snacks.  Chew, chew, chew.  And I haven’t even gotten to the cuticles yet — that’s dessert.

SCARLETT JOHANSSON: Isaac, I know you haven’t always been the biggest fan of mine, but you have to admit: I’m holding my own up here.

ME: OK, fine.

THE WOMAN BEHIND ME: (an hour into the show, to her mate) Is that Scarlett Johansson?

ME: (slaps his hand on his forehead)

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