Just as I was starting to hunker down for an evening with the IFC tv, the phone rang. My initial thought: "Oh great. Another telemarketer." On the off chance that it would be one of the few people who I personally know who have my number, I answered, fully prepared to hang up in a split second if I heard the voice of yet another sales drone.

(I've seriously been considering simply cancelling the landline, ditto for my cell phone, and getting a new cell with a different provider who might actually have reception in my neighborhood. It would be cheaper. It would be less confusing for other people if I could give them one number where I could be reached at all times. AND telemarketers are legally prohibited from perpetrating their sleazy worse-than-email-spam tactics over cell phone numbers.)

Needless to say, this one wasn't a telemarketer (otherwise I wouldn't be typing about it like this). An old friend from long ago. We had fallen out of contact, and only recently gotten back in touch. A group of people were going to a play, but one had dropped out with a flu at the last minute. Hence, an extra ticket. I was invited to fill the seat. I accepted.

I got instructions, jumped into Tobias, and headed for the rendezvous point. I guess I didn't quite know what I was getting into on a couple of counts.

1. Upon meeting up with the group, I realized that maybe I was just slightly underdressed. (You know me, and my standard issue jeans and tshirt ensemble. I am the geek fashion king.) But I didn't feel too bad, because the group made me feel right at home. Besides, even if I had known, there wouldn't have been sufficient time to change clothes on such mega-short notice.
2. The play itself was totally nothing like what I might have expected. (Not that I really knew what to expect, positive or negative, except that the people who had already seen it multiple times said it was really cool.) Indeed it was excellent. Great music, great acting, and just a downright good stage show. There is something inherently magical about a stage with real live talented actors performing in person.

The piece was titled "I love you, you're perfect. Now change." The whole thing was performed by 4 people (plus 2 musicians -- a pianist and a violinist). Each scene consisted of a snapshot from a relationship at some point in people's life, beginning with a first date (which humorously summarized what was to come), through stages of marriage, and ending up on old age. Each scene had a different set of characters (meaning the 4 actors had a huge range of roles to play), and almost all scenes included musical numbers. Lots of funny stuff, lots of good music. Obviously, it would make great material for a date venue (as was the intent, I'm sure). I enjoyed it.

After that, we journied back to the residence of an unnamed individual. (This anonymity crap does make writing in a clear and concise manner awkward sometimes, doesn't it? OTOH, it also makes for great content obfuscation mysteries. heeheehee. ;) Food consumption took place, followed by a viewing of an epic film directed by Ridley Scott.

From here, I think I'll jump to writing a movielog entry.