Phantom : a perspective

In an attempt to muster some culture (apparently swigging beer from a bottle and swearing profusely goes a long way to scar an image of refinement ) I dragged my sorry ass – clad in frock - to go see the phantom of the opera - was brilliant (being tone deaf , child prodigy well impressed by anyone that can sing in tune ) However , we can all bleat endlessly about the exceptional performance but wad of is not the place for theatrical review - we review peripherals and flaws in human nature (naaaice )

The evening began rather clumsily in that giving that pre show cigarette the precedence it deserves we arrived somewhat tardily for the seating and as luck would have it our seats were dead centre so we had to mission past a million grumpy bastards, you would be amazed at how put out people get when they have to sway a gargantuan thigh out the way (suppose if you are that size it does put a degree of pressure on the heart) so anyway I had to kick a couple of shins and stand on some feet while nodding politely and smiling (being vindictive is an art – apparently you can do anything as long as you smile and nod) anyway , on taking our seats we were pleased to find that “Water on the brain” the 6 foot freak of nature had managed to secure the seat in front of us – in a theatre that big – the living head managed to acquire a the spot in our direct line of vision (apparently fat heads are attracted to short people like a fat kid to a pie ) so immediately one develops neck cramp while contorting oneself into positions the kamasutra doesn’t even cover to get a glimpse of the stage .

Whats more Gerry (atric) and his wife were sitting next to me (with there after dinner mints) - sporadically smashing an after 8 down their throats with chameleon like stealth resulting in opera interspersed with paper crinkling and throat clearing (the remix) and what’s worse the wrinkly bastards didn’t even offer me one - I thought that’s what old people did – offer their sweets – what is up with the world – has it become such a cold and selfish place that old people don’t even share there sweets anymore (cat food and old age home for the lot of them , the wrinkly bastards) and then to add to my already mounting distaste for the antiques - turns out Gerry is a slow mover so come interval the possibility of vacating the theatre becomes obstructed by a flurry of confusion (shall we go left , shall we go right , *shuffle Shuffle*) oh goodness we dropped the after eights (*shuffle Shuffle*) – do you have your jacket dear (*shuffle Shuffle*) ….time was moving so slowly I could feel myself aging and of course the pre show beer that had been heralding it presence with severe cramping throughout the first half had now coerced my bladder into making a break for it and going it alone (*vein throbbing*)

Also , for some reason they did not have a golden circle , or a mosh pit (you could really get down to some serious moshing and stage diving to that shit ) - also they didn't search you for alcohol or weapons on the way in??? ......... they did however warn us that to protect the performers - photographic equipment would not be allowed - (???? what??? in case someone throws a camera at them ???) – but that aside ........what is up with that ? what kind of show doesn’t have a golden circle or a mosh pit - you got to worry about the path entertainment is taking today (the bar didn’t even sell shorts ??????? )

The opera is certainly not for sissy’s it’s a bun fight with wrinklies – stealth missions to the toilet – and hours trapped in a basement trying to get out of the parking after the show – have sewn appropriate scout badge on to party g-string to commemorate my accomplishment