And be-jetlagged on B-Broadway, the be-whinging began.
Be-Jesus, going to the theatre on The Broadway is a strange experience. It’s really not very friendly at all.
Waiting innocently for Phil to emerge from the Schoenfeld Theatre rest-room Andrew was twice told to move along by an extremely officious usher. “I’m just waiting for my friend to attend to his bladder again,” he explained only for the woman to repeat her instruction – but with the dial turned up from “frosty” to “mildly aggressive”.
The usher at the top of the aisle seemed quite friendly until he looked at our tickets and saw that we weren’t within his realm. Turning away quite regally he uttered, “The usher at the front will seat you” in a tone so weary with disdain that the Whingers were quite awestruck by his ability to dismiss them so utterly in eight innocent words.
And so it went on. Read the rest of this entry »