They were sitting in the balcony of a Broadway theater, waiting for the curtain to go up. Or maybe the curtain was up when they took their seats or there was no curtain, and they were waiting for the houselights to dim and the actors to come on stage. Pinter’s Betrayal, and he thinks it was the St. James Theater. That’s what pops into his head. “Look,” he said, “two available seats in the first row of the orchestra. I know they’re not going to be taken. It’s getting too late to and they’re the last seats to sell because they’re all the way over to the right. Let’s grab them before somebody else does.” “No, I couldn’t do that,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right and I’d be too embarrassed if we were caught,” and he said “It’s done every day, at the opera and here, and we’ll see and hear the actors better and enjoy the play more. And there won’t be any embarrassment. If we’re stopped, I’ll do all of the explaining, and we’ll just go back upstairs or find two other available seats down there that I can’t see from here.” “Suppose the real ticketholders are late and want their seats while the play’s going?” and he said “Slight chance, and they’re two end seats, so easy to leave. Come on, follow me,” and took her hand and led her out of the row and balcony and down a flight of stairs, maybe two, and down the right aisle of the orchestra, not letting go of her till they sat in the seats, she the second one in, he on the aisle. Nobody stopped them. And an usher up the aisle even wanted to give him a playbill, but he showed her the one he already had. The actors came on stage but didn’t speak for a while. He doesn’t think there was an intermission. He could tell by glancing at her every now and then how engrossed she was in the play. After it was over and they were standing by their raised seats to let some people farther in get by them — he’s not sure why they didn’t move out to the aisle to make passing them easier — he said “That was terrific. Play, performances and from where we saw it from. So much better than the balcony. I bet it’d be like seeing a somewhat different play from up there, and all the lines and facial expressions you’d lose. But I’m always giving my opinion first. What’d you think?” and she said “The same; I loved it. And I haven’t sat so close to the stage since I was a little girl and saw Peter Pan. Here, you could see the spit flying. And it was exciting what we did, taking these seats. I never would have done it if it wasn’t for you. I don’t even think I ever thought of doing it before. Good thing you held on to me. My heart was racing when we came down the aisle and I thought for sure we’d be caught, so I doubt I could ever do it again,” and he said “Sure you will, if you stick with me and we get another chance to, and you saw how nothing happened. Maybe sometime when we have enough money to spare we’ll buy our own orchestra seats to a play we really want to go to, though the way Broadway ticket prices keep rising, I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to. Maybe for your birthday or mine, if we’re in town, or our wedding anniversary — then, we’re always here on winter break,” and she said “That’d be nice. Exciting as it was, I’d rather buy them, and every so often we can splurge.”
