Yesterday, I went to a matinee of the Tony-award winning play, Red, about the relationship between the abstract expressionist, Mark Rothko, and his apprentice. A woman three rows in front of me was crinkling a candy wrapper for twenty minutes. If I shushed her, I'd be disturbing everyone else, so I had to try to push her out of my consciousness during a play where every word felt key. Suddenly, the guy next to me stood up. He was wiry and at least 6/7." Bent at the waist, he leaned across the two rows ahead of us, his head moving side to side like a snake after a mouse. Then he got very still. His ears pricked. He'd located the candy wrap crinkler and said, "shhhh" in her ear, scaring the bejeezus out of her. I wished I could take him with me to every show.
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