by Caitlin Bitzegaio. @caitorade.
NEW YORK, NY – Uh-oh, I got off on a bad foot with the usher.
Reader, you know me. I’m easy! When I attend a show, I put staff at ease by assuring them I’m a savvy insider who is at home at any Broadway house. In many ways, I know the staff’s job better than them. Once I made eye contact with a bartender at Kinky Boots when a tourist balked at the cost of a double prosecco, so technically, I’m a part of it.
This led to an embarrassing interaction I just had, like, two seconds ago at a performance of Shucked in the Nederlander Theater.
I walked in, portraying confidence, zoomed past the usher, grabbed a Playbill, and assured her I knew where I was going, despite her many protests. Sigh, I forgot that in the orchestra, odd numbered seats are house left and even numbered seats stage right. I walked back past her, defeated, on my way to Row H, Seat 7. Now I look more like a random audience member – a “plebeian,” as we call them – and less like a colleague.
Now the show is starting and – oh no. I have to go to the bathroom. You know what? I’m just going to do it. In a way that’s gauche, but I need to regain my status through some reassuring one-on-one interaction with the usher. Reader, stand by.
Okay, so I buzzed by her and said, “The first show I saw here was Jeremy Jordan in Newsies, pretty cool, right?” She just shushed me like I was talking during the show, which I was, but come on. Now I’m just back in the seat watching the musical like an idiot. I guess I’ll just “enjoy the show.”
No, I’m just going to leave. This experience has been ruined. I’ll come back tomorrow night. This whole thing will be like an inside joke between us. She’s going to love that!
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