File under the heading of "you do too have something to talk about":
So, I'm a patron of the arts. Or I'm patronizing to artists. Whatever. I bought a season ticket, I'm going to plays, musicals, and other assorted theatrical nonsense whether I like it or not. It's good for me.
Tonight's spoonful of sugar (I'm abusing the metaphor already, I know) was a musical revue called "Jacques Brel is alive and well and living in Paris". Funny, touching, remarkably well sung. After opening night, the cast, crew, and audience are all invited to get together at one of the local restaurants. I enjoy this because it means I get to chat with theatre people, which I seldom get to.
Also it means I get to chat with PEOPLE. Which I don't take enough opportunities to do. Again with the good for me thing.
Tonight, it turns out the restaurant that everybody was planning to go to was too busy, so the crowd went next door. Appearantly, word came during Act II. After all the announcements had been made. Not a big deal, but rather unprofessional. The restaurant where we ended up was happy to have us, and I know that I tipped well.
But, that's mostly just setting the stage (excuse me) for the anecdote to which the first line refers. I'm seated next to two couples. One of the four people is the flutist/second pianist from the show. And then there's her husband. And then there are the two people who sat near me during the show. Two men, two women. Mostly talking amongst themselves. I introduce myself, make a tiny bit of small talk. The drinks come, we chat a tiny bit more. And yet we're still pretty close lipped.
The woman who sat near me in the show asks me if this is the first show with this group I've seen. I say, oh no, I've seen plenty. Turns out her companion was actually in two of my recent favorites (12th night and Compleat Works of Shakespeare (Abridged)). I mention that I really enjoyed those plays. Somehow this goes on into random other chitchat. We discuss Wenatchee. Oh, are you a local? You went to school in Boston? Did you go to Boston College? Oh, MIT?
And this is where the husband of the flutist enters the discussion.
Turns out, he also went to MIT. We both started at the same time - he got a 5 year masters, whereas I wimped out and stopped going after 4 years with a measly pair of bachelor's degrees. So, we chat about MIT. And we do our best not to bore the woman trapped between us to tears.
And that just reminded me of the movie quote "Hey, I always notice that bored look in their eyes". I'm going to go immerse myself in IMDB.