Ted flipped through his playbill and looked for his high school’s friend’s picture. He saw more than a few familiar faces, but the lighting was bad, and tiny text was impossible to read. He turned to his wife and said, “These are good seats, huh?”
“It pays to know people. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to the front before,” Carol replied. She counted, “Fifth row.”
“Yeah, and Johnny said you don’t want to be in the front four rows. You can see more from here and some of the Shakespearean guys spit a lot when they talk.”
“Well, we definitely don’t want to be spat on.” Carol said.
“Oh yeah. Covid,” Ted remembered. “Wait, what are we doing in a theatre? Is Covid over?”
“It must be if we are in a theatre, right?”
“I don’t remember it ending.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Carol advised. “Just sit back and enjoy your friend Johnny’s performance.”
“My friend… Johnny Depp?”
“Yes, that one,” Carol confirmed.
“Wait a second. Johnny Depp is in his late fifties and I’m thirty-seven. How can we be high school friends?”
“Well, you know these Hollywood types.”
“Carol,” Ted said, “I think this might be a dream.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s the only way any of this makes sense.”
“Oh my. Do you want me to wake you up?” Carol asked.
“Dear god no. It’s been so long since we’ve seen a show. Plus, we’ve got fifth row seats.”
“Cool. Wanna make out?”
“Let’s.”