An open letter to H218 and H220

Dear ladies,

I don’t know your names; but I know you are subscribers to City Center’s Encores! musical series. For several years, I held seat H222 at the Saturday matinee, while you were in H218 and H220. And you made my life hell.

Encores! subscribers get the same seat at every show, every year, so I knew that you would open—and suck—candies noisily. You’d sing along. You would wittily comment on the action (“Now, what’s his name again?”). The breaking point came the day H220’s right arm just took possession of my space (mine! mine!). I tried to regain half an inch of armrest and you deliberately elbowed me in the ribs. Between acts, I begged the stage manager to move me because I just. Could. Not. Take. It. Anymore.

At renewal time, I requested a different seat and ended up in O11 on Friday night. I did happen to attend a Saturday matinee of Encores! this spring. I couldn’t help it, and looked: You gorgons were still there. I felt sorry for the new H222. Sorry, and relieved it wasn’t me.

Sincerely,
Elisabeth Vincentelli,
Arts & entertainment editor

[Note: Seat numbers in this story have been changed to protect the annoying.]