How my date with Alice ended.

 

The theatre tickets cost a little beyond my comfort zone, but I bought them.  The place was crowded, every seat filled with people shuffling with their things, adjusting their coats, and I was hoping they’d settle down when the curtain went up.

It seemed the moment the lights went out and the curtain rose, a mosquito began to buzz my ear.  I swatted my hand about, but without success.  It was a persistent little critter.   The first actor entered from stage left.  She seemed to be heading towards a coffee table, center stage.

Again, the mosquito buzzed my ear.  Out of one hundred people, why me?  Do mosquitos just know to head for me?  A second actor entered, already speaking.  I didn’t catch what they had said.  I was too annoyed to pay attention.

The lady at the coffee table lit a cigarette.  Good, I thought, maybe the smoke will chase this thing away.  Sadly, for me however, the other actor was a non-smoker, and snatched the cigarette from her hand and snuffed it out into the ashtray.

“No!” I yelled, forgetting for the moment where I was.  The actors stopped and looked out at me, and the audience broke into laughter.

 

 

Except for Alice.