I SIMPLY MUST TELL YOU,

 Reader Dear, about the surprising stroke of luck that opened up my world the other evening! (Well, for sure it opened up a wide view of a small part of it, anyway)

First of all, it was Valentine's Day--already some luck there, if you've got someone to take you to a play (I did)!  The Yard Man and I, we had tickets for And Then There Were None, an Agatha Christie whodunnit.

Actually, there was luck involved in just having the tickets!  When I had called the box office earlier in the week, the gentleman to whom I spoke began to tell me they were sold out, no seats available for Saturday night.  Then he paused.  "Wait a minute," he said.  "I see two seats have opened up!  They're down in the orchestra, row H.  Those are good seats!"  Then he added.  "Everything else is full."

Too, we were lucky to get through the snow and wind and bitter cold, and arrive at the theater well before the curtain opened.

An usher helped us find our seats, and, ah, yes, they were good ones.  But only ( I hesitate to add) if no one too tall should come along and lower the lengthy body they possessed into the seat directly in front of mine!  (It's the dread of every vertically-challenged person).

It was the cliffhanger prior to the cliffhanger--would I have a comfortable view?  Would I try to wad up my coat and sit on it, and still be craning my neck?  Would I rue the fact that The Yard Man had stashed his coat in the lobby?  I was on edge, waiting for an answer.  Theater-goers gradually filled up vacancies around the two of us.  An extra-large couple found their way to Row G, and studied the seat numbers.  "This is it!"  I said to The Yard Man, under my breath.  But, no, they settled themselves well out of my view.

Minutes ticked by.  And, then, a six-footer of a man excused himself to one person after another, and made his way down Row G. There were only a few empty seats remaining.  "Aaahhh," I whispered to The Yard Man, "He's the one! I should have known!"  I sighed.


He wasn't the one.

In fact, Dear Reader of mine, NO ONE was the one!  As the curtain rose, that seat directly in front of mine remained empty.  In that whole crowded theater, that open seat remained open!

And, as if to say "happy valentine's day to ya," here's the thing that had me gleeful and amazed and chortling at my fantastic good fortune:
"Can you believe it?!" I said to The Yard Man.  "Every seat is filled except for the one directly in front of me...and the TWO that are DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THAT ONE!!

It's true, Viewer Dear.  Row G had an empty seat, Row F had two empty seats,  every other seat in that packed Orchestra Section was occupied by a full-sized body with a head on his or her shoulders!



The second cliff-hanger was very entertaining!  The Yard Man and I both enjoyed the show, tried to figure out who was killing off the cast.  We knew it could not end well. 

 But the first cliff-hanger--now, that's the one, Dear Reader, with a happy ending!  (I'd have never suspected!)