For the first four performances of Annie I sat in the back with the production team. It was a nice spot to keep an eye on forgotten bow ties, or costume snafus that needed help during intermission. But for the final curtain I had four seats in front. I waited as long as I could but as circumstances evolved none of our older kids or John's or my siblings could come, so it made sense to release a pair of the seats for sale. John and I would only need two. For an almost sold out house, a couple of walk ins would be pretty lucky to snag them. 

 

I told the assistant producer to keep the ones on the aisle, in case I needed to slip out for anything, and let go of the others. She misunderstood and released the edge seats. 

 

Right before the music started I finished the last of the last minute fixes and went to join John in those great seats. A couple I did not know were in them. 

 

"Excuse me but I think you are in the two next to these."

 

She showed me the printed tickets. I sighed. 

 

"Well, I had all four of these seats and I let go of two and wanted to keep the ones on the end, so can you sit there?"

 

"I really prefer the aisle."

 

The nerve. Did she not know that my name is in the program? 

 

"Well I am the costumer and I need to be able to get out quickly."

 

Not that it has ever happened that an actor came on stage without pants, but you never know. 

 

They reluctantly moved and I settled in to the great comfort of our final performance. After weeks of work I deserved this. On the aisle. So there. 

 

I noticed that the man she was with had a notebook and was taking notes. Lots of them. Why would anyone do that? UNLESS HE WAS A REVIEWER!

 

Shoot. I had offended the critic before the curtain went up. 

 

The vibe between us was frosty. Maybe only crispy people go into the business of finding fault with perfectly innocent high school plays, but he was also large and we were kind of wrestling for the scant space between us. 

 

While the people all around us were laughing and clapping, he just wrote. What did he think? Where would his words land in the published world? 

 

When we came back after intermission I tried to reconcile. 

 

"The costumes are all fine! Would you like these seats after all?"

 

"We're ok." 

 

No smile. No thank you. No warmth. I asked him if there was someone in the show he cares about. I was after all sitting among the relatives of every description of the kids I had been interacting with since October. 

 

"No." Quite the conversationalist. 

 

"Then why did you come?"

 

"To review the show."

 

Kinda trumped my claim to notoriety. 

 

Ah well. He could think what he thinks and say what he says. It could do nothing to mar the sense of elation I felt about this fabulous experience. 

 

Though I suppose it is possible that if he rakes the costumer over the coals I will be like those people in Hooverville and out of a job.