Now a word about irrational fears

Last week, while sitting in a theater waiting for a musical performance to start, I found myself checking and double-checking to make sure Mags and I were in the right seats. While I hadn't sought help from the usher, I figured our chances of walking down the aisle and matching the seat number to the tickets would be fairly high. The theater only seats 125 people.

After a few minutes a flustered woman and her son approached our aisle, stopped and looked at us in a perplexed fashion. The woman checked her ticket, looked at us, then folded her lips tightly. "Albert," she announced after a minute, "our seats are next to them."

I am not sure why this woman's protracted approach to finding her seat unleashed my anxiety, but the confidence I had that we were in the right seats quickly eroded. As soon as the woman plunked in the seat next to me, I dug into my purse, re-read our seat numbers, then jammed my head halfway under the seat to make sure the seat number was correct. But I wasn't entirely convinced. I put hands in my lap to distinguish the left from the right (we were designated the left side of the theater) and then for good measure, I turned halfway around in my chair to see if anyone else was on their way to eject us.

Ever boarded a plane and then had that weird moment when another passenger stands just ahead of your aisle, staring you down like you are a child molester? And then the awkward cough followed by, "You are in my SEAT."  Years ago on a business trip to Miami, a passenger stood in front of me, cleared his throat and pointed to his ticket. I pulled my ticket out and we were surprised to find we both had been issued the same seat number. I figured since I was in the seat first, and a girl, that he would do the chivalrous thing and find another location. But no, he had to be close to the bathroom, he protested to the stewardess. Something to do with irritable bowel syndrome. I gave in.

The house lights eventually dimmed and then after ten minutes into the performance I relaxed. Nobody could make us budge now without a fight. I just hoped Mags didn't have to pee, which would force me to get up and go through the whole ordeal again.

Think he obliged? HA!