Just so you know.... I am a somewhat vain, mature woman of a certain age that will remain forever confidential. The only reason for this bit of information is that it is pertinent to this story...
My daughter, granddaughter, and I had planned an excursion to Seattle so that we might attend the production Mama Mia at the 5th Avenue Playhouse. It was to be my granddaughter's very generous treat. Fortune was with us when the long-awaited day arrived. The weather was perfect, clear and beautiful with a crisp breeze. We live on Vancouver Island, which meant we had to ferry across from Victoria BC to Port Angeles, Wash, and then journey on to Seattle. My daughter does not fare well travelling on open water, and this became very obvious once we had boarded. Her face took on a distinct greenish tint that ripened to a nauseous hue as we rocked and rolled across the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Between groans, she moaned that she would not survive the ferry crossing. A shopping spree was proposed. This offer of retail therapy was the only thing that kept her alive until we docked!
Once docked in Pt. Angelus, we drove south to Silverdale and its shopping malls. We stopped at the first mall we came to. My daughter experienced a miraculous recovery as we milled around the various shops. Having regained her strength, she was ready to drive on to our motel. We were in luck (or one of us anyways) as our lodging was very close to a large shopping centre. Bliss for the shopaholic, barely tolerable for the other two of us.
On the performance date, we drove across a bridge to Bainbridge Island, and then, as foot passengers, ferried to the Port of Seattle. The ship docked at Pier 50, famous for its Pike Place Market. Unfortunately, we had little time to explore the market and quickly hiked up the steep hills bordered by ornately designed buildings of another era. Stopping to admire the architecture gave us an excuse to rest until we no longer gasped for air.
Having survived the climb, we casually strolled to the beautiful 5th Avenue Playhouse built in 1926 and famous for its Chinese architecture. We admired and photographed the building as we lined up to enter the theatre. Once inside, the era of its construction became very evident as the men's lavatories were located on the main floor whereas the ladies' were in the basement. Outraged by the flagrant sexism, in a loudish voice, I noted the insult to my daughter and granddaughter. My comments garnered their murderous glares and huffs from patrons within hearing range. I went quiet lest I be strangled.
We joined the exuberant crowd waiting for the doors to the seating area to open. Fifteen minutes to performance time, the doors swung wide, and we joined the crowd surging to their seats. We found ours in the middle row, located in the centre of the theatre. Wonderful seats, thanks to my granddaughter's selection. The girls deposited their oversized bags with me and went off to explore more of the theatre. Revelling in the buzz of the audience's anticipation, I relaxed into my seat.
