The other night I was at the Barbican for Messiah. Tickets helpfully state which door to use to enter the auditorium, and doors are clearly marked. I walked up to my allocated door, where there was a surprisingly large and slow-moving queue . I see little point in walking a long way to join the back of a queue when I reason that the queue will eventually diminish; I am careful to be a tail-ender rather than a straggler. I soon saw the cause of the queue - just one steward on the door who was probably new and took an age to check each ticket and direct people to their seats.
I was one of the last people to enter the hall but I still had enough time to make myself comfortable before the conductor's arrival signalled time to settle down.
I walked up to my seat, on the aisle, on the front row. I was momentarily disconcerted by seeing someone's coat on the seat, so I turned to the woman in the next seat and said "Excuse me please". The woman next to her (they seemed to be together) reached over and moved her coat.
I thought nothing more of it. I've done it myself - anticipated the non-arrival of someone in an adjacent seat and used the space to my advantage. I think it's human nature, not just in concert halls, but on public transport, in bars and other public spaces. I want you to be in no doubt, I really wasn't upset or stressed about it. It was just a 'thing' that was resolved with the absolute minimum of fuss from both sides.
Believe me, I was far more disturbed by the constant chorus of coughing and throat-clearing that punctuated most of the performance, and caused wry, almost incredulous, smirks from the orchestra when they paused before the Pastoral Symphony to allow for the admittance of latecomers.
After the interval, when I was re-taking my seat, the woman next-but-one to me, the coat owner, challenged me as to what was my seat number. I told her, she asked whether I was sure. I was absolutely sure. She suggested that possibly my seat was the next number up and across the aisle. I was firm that I had gone to the right seat.
She explained that they don't usually sell that seat which is why she put her coat there. More in the way of justification than apology. I said something along the lines of I normally go downstairs but had only bought my ticket last week, and there had been nothing downstairs that appealed; I also explained that there had a been a long queue to enter the hall. I'm way too civilised for my own good!
Afterwards, I was thinking, and could not help concluding she was talking poppycock. The seat I had was sold as 'restricted view, hand rail'. The handrail did not restrict my view in any significant way that couldn't be corrected by a minute adjustment of eyes or head. It had the advantage of being on the front row and at the aisle.
Now, I can't prove her wrong. I look at several upcoming concerts and find that that seat is unavailable, as are the ones that she and her companion were sitting in and many others that are central and front. Other concerts are listed as 'sold out' so I can't determine whether they are sold out including or excluding that seat. But it defies logic.
For any of those sold-out concerts coming up or for last week's Otello, there would be countless people delighted to get a front row aisle seat, regardless that it blocks off a tiny section of the stage at any given time. It defies logic that the Barbican declines to put it on sale (with 'restriction' warning.) Perhaps it is one they habitually hold back as a 'house seat', either to give as a freebie to some ligger or else for logistical reasons.
I think I am reasonably good at spotting malice and I don't think this woman was being malicious. I tend to ascribe apparent stupidity to actual stupidity.I don't think she was being stupid. I concluded that she was just being shabby and dishonourable. I didn't feel she had any need to explain or apologise, but given that she felt the need, it would have been far more gracious to say "I'm sorry, I assumed that because the seat was empty at 7pm that it would be empty for the evening, my mistake."
I don't even mind the implication that I had invaded her perceived right to use the 'usually' vacant seat for her convenience. I just see no need for post hoc fictional justifications that blame someone else, in this case The Barbican. Having been entirely unperturbed by the coat-on-a-seat, I was left feeling at the very least peeved that she had lied to me in a way that was a bit contemptuous, treating me as a bit of a fool.
