The Sister and I were very excited to attend The Metropolitan Opera’s Production of Rigoletto a while back. This production was set in 1960’s Las Vegas and who wouldn’t like that? Maybe there would be an Elvis impersonator?
I hadn’t been feeling great on the subway from my office to Lincoln Center. I met my sister for dinner, but couldn’t eat. As we sat there my nausea and pains got worse, but hey, just like the show must go on, the audience must attend. (and we paid a boatload of money for the tickets.) I was determined to go. The chimes rang indicating the performance was about to start. The chandeliers went up, the orchestra bowed and started to play, the curtains opened and there was what looked to me to be an amazingly fun and tacky stage filled with neon lights, roulette wheels and dancing-girls. And then it happened. I won’t go into detail, suffice to say I had a bout of food poisoning. But guess what! Lincoln Center has a doctor on call who sits in the audience and is there just for sick audience members. He was a cardiologist and really wonderful. Apparently there is a cadre of doctors (mostly urologists I was told, what’s up with that?) that rotate seeing performances for free in return for emergencies in the audience. I told my friend what happened and she said based on the average age of the Met’s audience she wasn’t surprised.
I was escorted to the small medical office and examining room by the doctor, the Sister and two lovely Firemen who moonlight as EMS techs at the Met. They were both wearing tuxes. When my sister asked why they responded “It’s the Opera!” (Like Duh!) As I’m being examined by the doctor and curled up in pain, I could hear The Sister talking to the fireman in Tuxes…turned out we were all from the “old neighborhood” and a good time was had by all (except me).
To add to the night, when we first sat down I was happy that we were on the aisle and there were two empty seats next to us. Just before the opera started two people showed up to sit in those seats. And wouldn’t you know, out of everyone in the universe is was a co-worker and her mother. After I got up because of the illness, my sister left her seat to check on me. (This was before they called the doctor.) We never returned to our seats. The next morning I saw the co-worker and explained what happened. She told me her mother thought I was so upset that Rigoletto was set in 1960’s Las Vegas that I got up and left!
Besides the pink flowers above, I also decided to rework the pears from the previous post. I thought I’d spice them up a bit. But not too spicy. Don’t want to have to call the doctor.