Situation #1: We have our seats. Real, assigned, numbered seats. Not even the fold-out half seats. True ones, with backs and everything. The usher shows my friend and I to them and there is an older woman sitting in one of them. Hmm. Maybe they accidentally assigned two people to the same seat? Ask the usher. Nope, definitely my seat. The usher asks the woman to get up, shows her my ticket and waits. Argument ensues. The usher has to help other people find their seats, but assures me (in Russian! that I understood!) that all will be well. The older woman gets up from the seat and her companion, a hefty woman in red, sits her big ol' bottom down on my seat. What gives? The usher calls over ANOTHER usher to tell this woman she cannot sit there, and she refuses to move. Seeing other open seats, I figure I will fend for myself if need be and, true to Russian style, pick an empty seat when the third bell rings. The third bell rings, the woman in red arises, and goes to find a better seat.
Situation #2: About 10 minutes into the play a cell phone rings. And rings. And rings even louder as the culprit is trying to locate his/her phone to presumably turn it off. An old lady, two rows behind me, takes the phone out and proceeds to have a whole conversation. I'm sorry, if you cannot use your technology (and yes, I fully admit there are many things on my iPhone that I do not know how to use to their fullest ability), at least the basic functions of on, off and silent, you shouldn't have it. And yes, mistakes do happen. However, a full on conversation during a performance is not how this is solved.
Situation #3 and #4: About 15+ minutes into the first act, the usher leads in someone to be late sat. Other people have been late sat already, but just into the last row. This time, a Tibetan monk is led into the theater and to a seat on house left (your left as an audience member if you are looking at the stage). Fine, there is a seat on the end of a three person row. The woman (now in the middle seat) is infuriated that she has to move her bag in order for the monk to sit down. I am not sure which bothers me more: showing up rather late to a performance, or feeling that your bag deserves a seat of its own?! (more on this at another time....)
Situation #5: The Tibetan monk proceeds to take pictures during the entirety of Act I. And, if that is not annoying enough, is leaning essentially onto the seat of the person in front of him, who happens to be my friend Leslie (of Maslenitsa fame).
Situation #6: Many people decide to walk out during the act. Unless you are having an emergency of some sort - and I believe that "emergency" is a very expansive category - you can make it until intermission. OH, and if it's just to answer your phone, let it go to voicemail, or stay in the hall until intermission.
Situation #7: This continues into Act II as well, but the Muscovite need for the best available seat makes the audience look as if its playing a game of musical chairs for at least the first five minutes of each act.
And all this just before intermission!
Situation #8: Is it really necessary to leave within two minutes of Act II beginning? If you wanted to leave, you had all intermission to do so. And I'm not even talking about a wimpy 10-minute American-style intermission; Russian intermissions are a good 20 minutes.
Situation #9: Mr. Tibetan Monk, after all the ruckus you caused to settle into Act I, I would think you would stick around for Act II.
Situation #10: Texting is not necessary. If you can be covert and do it quickly, maybe I'll give you a pass. If you have to have a conversation with your partner in order to respond to said text, and ask where a letter is located on your keyboard, you should not be doing it.
No comments:
Post a Comment