Went to the theatre last night. (I do that.) Saw Tarzan. I was sitting up in the mezzanine. Second row. When the show was over, I managed to get to the top of the mezz (where the exit was) ahead of most of the people behind me. Then got through the crowd down to the door and out on the street. Saw a guy there holding him umbrella and thought, "Oh crap. I left my umbrella under my seat."
Went back into the theatre while everyone else was going out. Repeatedly mumbling, "Excuse me. Pardon me. Excuse me. Pardon me." like Bugs Bunny used to say. Except I was adding, "Pardon me. Left something. Going against traffic. Idiot coming through. Pardon me. I'm a moron." Pushed past everyone all the way up the stairs. Back into the theatre and down to my row. Peeked under my seat. No umbrella. Damn.
Usher at the other end of the mezzanine yells, "Miss? Are you looking for your umbrella?" He waved it at me. I ran over and thanked him. "A little boy found it and saved your life." Well, "saved my life" is a little dramatic, but, yeah, my thanks to honest little boys.
Tonight, I went to a pre-show dinner at a revolving restaurant at the top of a hotel here. (Given my recent excursion to the CN Tower, this is the first time I've been to two revolving restaurants in the same fortnight. Hell, probably the first time I've been to two revolving restaurants in the same decade.) They have a single elevator that runs up to the restaurant. Leaving the restaurant, there was a long line of people waiting for the elevator (we all wanted to get to the theatre in time). I had to wait quite a bit. Finally crammed myself in an elevator car. Got down to the bottom floor. Got just past the door and ... Damn, I left my umbrella under my chair. The play starts in, like, fifteen minutes and I still have to walk there. No way I'm getting back up to the restaurant and back down for the theatre in time. I tell the lady at the elevator reception desk that I left my umbrella. She takes my name and gives me the phone number of the restaurant.
I go to the theatre. I call the restaurant at intermission. Nobody is answering their phone. After the show (drizzling slightly), I go back to the restaurant. Woman at the reception desk calls up to hunt down my umbrella again. She asks for a description. I give it to her. She's on hold for a long time, as though the person at the other end is going through hundreds of black umbrellas to find the one that meets my description. Ultimately, she finds it (yay!) and has the elevator operator bring it down to me.
Two escape attempts in two days. I need to have a serious talk with this umbrella.
2 comments:
Maybe it's time to put away the whizbang incredible collapsing umbrella and get yourself a genuine, non-folding, full size, keeps it's shape in a tornado, simple, elegant, black umbrella with a hooked handle that allows said appliance to be draped on your off arm. Too big to take into the restaurant or theater, one starts behaving as a grown-up and checks her coat and umbrella, thus never losing them.
Just a thought. No criticism.
How was Tarzan?
This entry and wil's comment is one of the reasons that I love reading journals. I actually laughed out loud. This was fun reading, although I doubt it was much fun realizing that your umbrella was truant again. Pennie
Post a Comment