I was the Royal Opera House last night. There was this woman there who, just before the conductor arrived, decided to move her bag and jacket from on top of the underseat air-conditioning grill, to in front of her feet. In doing so she managed to bang the head of the elderly man in front with her not insubstantial arse.
At the end of the first interval she decided to enter the door for the Amphitheatre Left, despite having a seat near the right end of the centre block, thus disturbing eight people, rather than zero, if she had approached through the Right door.
In the third and fourth act she burped regularly. Genteely and in a ladylike manner, but nevertheless, audible to her immediate neighbours.
Wouldn't you hate to sit near someone like that? Thank god I wasn't sitting next to her.
