'Ticket please' .. part 2

What the heck's goin' on?

As l pushed through the auditorium doors and grew accustomed to the darkness, l could see a figure clambering over the patrons in the front row. I ran as quickly and discreetly as l could down the sloping passage, to find out what was going on. It was a female, and we came together in the middle of the space, she was in a right staight. There was a stench from her, and she could barely contain herself.

What was she on about ..

"COME ON. HURRY", she shouted, pulling on my arm.

The hundred piece orchestra was in full swing, and two things occurred to me. I had to keep things normal, and to stop that nut job from creating any more of a scene. But what WAS that smell ..

I pressed the woman against the wall near the large speakers at the side of the stage to calm herself down, hoping to see for myself. I looked into the orchestra pit, then the audience, and could see clearly as the five thousand watt lights gave me the perfect torch! Someone had thrown up over the conductor! Projectile vomit, dripping down onto his shoulders from his head! The audience in the first few rows, and that was about two hundred of them, were mumbling and shifting around uncomfortably in their seats, searching for handkerchiefs to cover noses from that particular stench.

Now, these classical music, theatre goer folk, all have impeccable manners and did not leave their seats in any circumstances, even this unusual case. They were sitting there as if nothing had happened. Then l saw the culprit. Blimy, it was Linda Blair in an evening gown!

Bluuuuughhhhh ..

Over it went, spewing directly down, centre seat perfectly chosen for such an occasion.

Right. Quick. Need to get this person out of there.

I ran up to the first aid room, and got a wheel chair, drove it back down to the front row, and me with the woman-against-the-wall crawled passed the hanky dabers. The vomit covered conductor carried on regardless, with his highly entertaining dance they wave around, operaaaaaah in full throttle.

By now a manager had appeared, to take full credit for MY quick thinking, but of course, cos that's how was a few years ago.

He wheeled the poor old lady out into the corridor, and l disappeared back to my place on the usher seat. I knew my place.

Apparently, the elderly woman had got her finger caught in the window of her chauffeur driven car, but hadn't said anything, as she didnt know how to release the button operating the said window. The ambulance man said she had a 'shock' reaction, and her family took her home eventually.

As for Sergio Rakmaninovski, we paid for the dry cleaning ..