I was going to write about public restrooms, which you know is one of my favorite topics, but then Intersectionality Happened, and something better came along
This miracle happened last night. Mr T and I went to a show and the show ended and I, who had smuggled a water bottle into the theater (and “smuggled” is the proper term, as they search bags now for food and liquids and weapons because God forbid a thrifty Wisconsinite not submit to highway robbery prices for food and drink at a theater although I have to admit in the defense of the people who search my bags that they do not look very hard because I have smuggled water and chocolate into every single venue I have ever tried to smuggle into ever.
Also – they never search our bags when we go to the Theatre theater. Only to pop culture stuff. The kinds of shows where the program is advertising nursing homes, annuities, and funeral services? They don’t search your bags there.)
Where was I?
Oh. So I had smuggled in a bottle of water so of course by the time the show was over I needed to use the ladies and when I got there, I was so shocked at what I found that I had to step back and take a photo.
Yes. That’s what you see in the photo above.
A LADIES ROOM AT A PUBLIC VENUE AT THE END OF AN EVENT – AND NOT ONLY IS THERE NOT A LINE, IT’S EMPTY.
So I took a photo.
As proof of the miracle.
I am not really sure how the Vatican handles this sort of thing and who the prospective saint would be, but this is Miracle Number 1.
[Miracle Number One. Hahahaha.]
And felt smug at how fast I was, even though our seats were high in the bleachers and I am not really fast at all.
But as soon as I was done with what one does in the ladies, I emerged to a huge line and I asked myself, Hmmmm. Why the line now and not before?
And I realized I had been looking at it all wrong and the real question was why had the other women lingered in the theater and not rushed to the ladies?
And I realized the answer was because they were right and I was wrong.
Because Mr T and I had attended a showing of The Princess Bride with a post-show conversation with Cary Elwes and they were all still in there talking about HOW MUCH FUN IT HAD BEEN whereas all I could think about was BOLT NOW SO YOU CAN PEE BEFORE YOU HAVE TO WALK HALF A MILE IN 11 DEGREES IN SNOW AND ICE BEFORE A 20 MINUTE DRIVE HOME.
They were thinking, The bathroom? It will always be there. But us? In here? With our friends? And the music? And the beautiful Pabst Theater? And the movie that everyone loves? Let us linger! Let us enjoy! It’s going to take forever to walk down the three flights of stairs anyhow –
[NB If there is ever a fire in that theater, I need to accept that Mr T and I will die because we always get the cheap tickets and there are not enough exits to get everyone out on time. This is a sobering thought that just struck me. Maybe we need to start spending more money on tickets. Or maybe that is how our lives will end – after we have enjoyed a lovely evening of the symphony or The Princess Bride or the Gypsy Kings. Wow. I really need to think about this.]
Forget about fire. Forget about restrooms.
If you have the chance to watch The Princess Bride on the big screen and to watch Cary Elwes being interviewed after, do it. And if you submit a question, don’t ask a stupid one like, “Will you marry me?” to him.
- He’s already married
- He’s been married for 30 years
- That’s boring and again, it’s stupid
Ask about listening to Billy Crystal ad-lib the Almost Dead scene. Or what it was like to work with Andre the Giant. Someone needs to ask about working with Robin Wright and did anyone see House of Cards coming, or at least that type of character for her.
And learn your lines so you can say them with the movie, because it’s only proper.