Last night my husband invited me to dinner and the theater. Now this was quite a shock since his idea of a hot night out is a campfire by the river. We dressed to the nines and had an enjoyable dinner. And then headed for a production by the local college.
It.was.awful. Shakespeare done as bawdy slapstick. It might have worked, but it just wasn't funny. During the first act, I peeked at Steve and the expression on his face was of pure pain. So at intermission, when I stood, picked up my coat and purse and headed out, he knew exactly what was happening. We laughed more at how bad it was than at the show itself.
My only disappointment is that he will be reluctant to suggest another such evening.