Thursday, August 20, 2009

And now for the weird stuff

The evening with Pat Conroy (I'm sorry, I just really love the way that sounds) wasn't all brilliant prose and witty commentary. Oh no. There were people there.

People are stupid. Oh, I love to people-watch. And then talk about how much I hate people.

First, Amy and I chose the closest seats to the front that we could find, next to a perfectly normal-looking woman in a dress (though she should've thought twice about ditching the bra). But then, shortly after the program started, said woman stretched out her legs and began to unwrap her Subway sandwich. Which she chased with a handful of gummy fruit snacks. Now that just seemed downright inappropriate. Because, y'all. It wasn't a tailgate.

Then I noticed the woman seated next to Amy. The woman who politely crossed her legs—after removing one of her shoes. She spent the next two hours frantically fanning her naked foot. Really, lady?

But suddenly I was distracted by someone—something—else. Can you see that sparkly newsboy cap on that old lady? Had to sneak a pic. Took it specifically for this post.

And then, oh then, the woman behind us got started. The woman who did not realize that people paid $40 to listen to famous authors. She thought she was part of the show. Know what else she thought? She thought when Pat Conroy asked rhetorical questions that she should shout out answers. And the more wine she drank, the more she felt led by the literary spirit. Pretty soon she was predicting the words of a great novelist for us. And not one of her friends was kind enough to stuff a sock in her mouth.


amyb said...

You forgot to mention my theory about alcohol and menopause. They don't mix, ladies. When the change of life hits, change to water for awhile.

stephinbham said...

I know. I needed you to phrase it properly. And—for the record—you are totally correct. I WISH I'd written down some of the things that woman said and to what they were in response.

Oh yeah. I was too busy trying to listen to PAT CONROY.

Leah said...

You should have shushed her, like I shushed those people singing along to Wicked. Broadway performances are not sing-a-longs, people.