Linkage

Spamalot

OK, been a few since my last update. Let's get back to the topic of the last post. Spamalot.

Lesson learned: Do not buy tickets online without being damn sure of seat location. To say we had the furthest seats from the stage would be an exaggeration. There was actually one row behind us. As funny as the evening was I feel we missed out on some of the humor not being able to read the up close facial expressions of the actors.

The show was pure Monty Python from beginning to end. They took the story line (and some pages directly from the script) from the Holy Grail. Then they added modern references to new scenes/jokes. At one point they even threw in some local humor as they most likely do at every stop on the tour. Nothing wins an audience over more then jokes they can relate too.

Thumbs up overall. I still feel I missed out on some of it so I can't give it the high rating I gave Iron Man.

In case you missed it reading my prior blogs I am a fat ass. I don't sugar coat it and I sure as hell don't get insulted over it. It is a plain fact. So as I squash my fat ass into the seat (mental image of how they make sausages) I sit with the Mrs and wait for the place to fill up. We had arrived early.

Eventually a women arrived who was also a fat ass. She wedged into the seat next to me. Now as much as you prefer to have no contact with the person sitting next to you in any theatre it was going to happen. Put two Notsogreatwhite Whales in a small aquarium and they have not choice but to touch.

There is also an character of fat that skinny people do not understand. Fat attracts fat. It is why people get fatter. You gain a bit of fat and it does whatever it can to gain more. Misery might love company but fat brings them all to the party. So there I am with my left leg stuck like velcro to Jabba the Hutt sitting next to me.

At this point and time I find out one of the two less endearing traits of my new sister in bloat is she is a leg tapper. As the music started she tapped here foot on the ground, bouncing her leg (yes, and then mine) to the beat. I would like to think she tried to do it with the beat but either she has the coordination of Stephen Hawking or the delay of the energy traveling through the pools of fat was noticeable.

Being nice and not wanting to create a scene with appropriate body language and exasperated sounds she would stop. Then a few minutes later would start again. She and the harpy she arrived with also had the habit of pointing out everything on the stage as it happened and explained it.

"Get it? He's not dead yet! It's a joke about him almost being dead!"

You do not know how much restraint it took.

When I desire I have remarkable restraint. I used up my yearly allotment in the first act.

I noticed 4 opened seats in a row one row down more towards center stage. At intermission while the Mrs took off to the pisser I moseyed on down to the seats. I inquired nicely if anyone was sitting there and was told the people there had up and left after a few minutes and had not come back.

I decided to try my luck and sat down. A few minutes later a guy walks up and asks for the water bottles in the seats. I had put them in one of the empty seats and handed them over. I asked him if these seats were his. He confirmed this then told me his tale.

It seems his 9 year old son realized he was scared of heights. So badly he couldn't sit there. So they uprooted and talked to the ushers. After some time they found them seats that were not in use and gave them those seats to enjoy the show. They had balcony seats in prime location. Who said vertigo was always a bad thing?

He gave his blessing to use the seats and took off. The Mrs came back and I caught her up to speed. So we went from annoying ass people sitting next to us in our seating to seats where we had no one sitting on the other sides. It was most glorious.

~The Dad