We were looking at getting some tickets for a local version of a popular Broadway show called Vocal Harmonisation in the Precipitation (or something similar). Our younger child is particularly keen to go along.
“No under 5s. No age restriction.”
Apart from under 5s, I presume?
It turns out that firstly, going to the theatre is DAMN EXPENSIVE (no wonder it’s dying the death), and secondly, the direct contradiction above is far from the most confusing thing in the terms and conditions, which have forty-seven different pricing options, depending on seat position, age, status, height, beagle ownership and “whether the wind be in the East, my boy”. Oh, and also depending on whether you automatically pronounced that last one in a pirate’s accent.
On a more serious note, the website also describes those in the first few rows of the stalls as being in danger of getting wet, during the show’s “Big Number” (from where it takes its name). I’d like to know just how much water is used in this sequence, please, given that the local outrage athletes and killjoys got Slide The City cancelled for exactly the same spurious reasons.
Ah yes. Remember those halcyon pre-#NeneFired days when arguing over recycled non-potable water was the biggest concern we had?
What we wouldn’t give to go back to them now, hey?