Saturday, 8 December 2012

I've been along to the Opera House, don't you know, to see Swan Lake.  This involved getting up super-early and queuing outside the box office for blooming ages - for just a standing ticket.  At one point it crossed my mind that perhaps making us queue this way was a ploy to separate those who'd be able to cut the mustard, standing-wise, and those who were likely to pass out during the actual performance -and therefore not worth wasting a ticket on. Anyway, I passed muster and later that day headed off for the ballet wearing my most sensible support shoes.      

Sadly, our happy band of standees had dwindled to 8 by the interval. One bloke decided he'd had enough and said to his girlfriend, who was standing next to me: 'Sorry love, but I'm falling asleep here...isn't really my thing. Why don't you girls (suddenly I was his get-out-of-jail card) stay, and I'll get a beer.'  I half expected him to add that he couldn't stand watching guys prancing around in tights anymore - but he didn't, even if he was thinking it. The girlfriend, fair dinkum, wasn't into being dumped, and followed him to the bar.

The second half of the performance was sublime, with just one little wobble from the prima ballerina.  (How she didn't go dizzy with all that spinning around I'll never know).  And we were allowed to sit in one of the no-show seats for the last bit, to rest our tired old pins. Ace! The music wasn't half-bad either.

No comments:

Post a Comment