You know those dreams you have about you making some awful mistake, like going to the wrong train station and missing your holiday; or forgetting your costume and going on stage in your underwear...? Or is that just me?
Well anyway, I made a dream-style mistake a few nights ago, with a fairly high level of stupidity on my part.
Me and a friend (Katie) were going to see Sarah Pickett in her school's production of Fiddler On The Roof. We've been going to see these shows for a few years now, and Sarah normally reserves the tickets for us and we pick them up at the pavilion on the night. But this year, Sarah bought the tickets and gave them to me two weeks before the show. I left them in my bag, fairly confident that I would remember them, if only because I normally take that bag with me everywhere.
I'm sure you can see where this is going... yup, I forgot the tickets. I was in a hurry to leave and didn't bother to take a bag with me. You may be thinking, so what? How long does it take to remember a thing like that?
Well... longer than you might think...
Even after driving all the way to the pavilion (a good fifteen minute drive) and asking the woman at the box office if she had our tickets, and watching her search with quickly depleting chance of her finding them, I was still adamant that I hadn't been given the tickets. Only when Katie lifted her phone to her ear to call Sarah did I remember.
So with fifteen minutes to go til curtain up, we had to ask Katie's dad to come back for us and drive us back to my house, and then back to the pavilion. And preferably very quickly.
Which he did, and very nicely too, tolerating my profuse apologies along the way.
We arrived back at the pavilion at what should have been fifteen minutes in, but the last few years the shows have started quite late, so we weren't too worried. Of course, this would be the one year they start on time...
We were shown in by a man who told us we were "somewhere near the front", and after finding our row and spying what we thought was a gap of two seats, we watched the end of the scene before attempting to get to them. When the scene ended, we edged past people very very quickly, in the few seconds of darkness we had before the next scene started.
After standing on people/their feet/their bags/their coats e.t.c. we reached the gap we had seen...which was the aisle down the middle of the room... just as the lights came on. Like rabbits in the headlights, we frantically looked around for somewhere to sit, spotting some a bit further back but in the middle, and sank into them gratefully.
We assumed that the few minutes we missed weren't very crucial, until the show finished and we realised we had no idea what the point of the fiddler on the roof was... Phil (Sarah's brother) helpfully told us as if it was obvious, "life in anatevka is as shaky as a fiddler on the roof" replying to our blank stares with an "ohhh yeah, you missed that".
For all that, a good show though, as it always is from Porthcawl Comp :)
And on another note, yay England! :D