When the representative for the English National Opera took to the stage at 3pm on a recent Saturday and announced that one of the principal actors had a gastrointestinal infection, but would still be performing, and they were just asking for our understanding, well then you knew you were in for a treat of a day. When a prim and proper British woman who works in opera informs you just for the sake of informing you that an opera singer about to sing in front of you might crap his pants onstage, that's worth the ticket price alone.
And when the people seated next to me were talking about the run time a few minutes before curtain, and one turned to me and asked, “Wait, is this really close to 4 hours?”, and I said “Actually it’s more like 5,” and then I was corrected that it was closer to 6 (with intermissions), well you knew the whole thing would be quite special.
And when the people seated next to me were talking about the run time a few minutes before curtain, and one turned to me and asked, “Wait, is this really close to 4 hours?”, and I said “Actually it’s more like 5,” and then I was corrected that it was closer to 6 (with intermissions), well you knew the whole thing would be quite special.
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