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A family took their young son to the opera. They were seated in the middle of the second row.
"DADDY! Why is that man hitting the lady with a stick?"
"Hush. He's not hitting her with a stick. He's the conductor and he's leading the orchestra."
"Well, if he's not hitting her, why is she screaming?"
It was 1958 and a high school buddy who was a band member got two free tickets to "The Marriage of Figaro". I had to have a an interview with the band teacher assuring that I would actually attend the opera before I was given my ticket. The San Francisco Opera Company was on tour and doing the performance in San Diego.
After being coached on reading the libretto, clothes to wear, not to walk out during the performance but only during intermission, etc. The only instruction that wasn't given was where to pass gas if necessary. (I'm serious!)
My Intermediate Algebra teacher had mentioned in class that she was going to the opera on Friday. I guess that she had to tell someone. Her announcement didn't surprise me as she was always way over dressed for class and she came across as being better than everyone else.
At the first intermission my buddy was a bit uncomfortable and was considering leaving. I encouraged him to read the libretto as it would help understanding what was really happening on stage. We went into the lobby and he sat on a bench reading while I got us a couple of glasses of wine. As I was leaving the bar area my Intermediate Algebra teacher saw me. She demanded to know how I got the two glasses of wine. I explained that I walked up to the bar, asked for two, paid and left a 20% tip. (I was 5 years underage to purchase alcohol at that time.)
She grumbled a bit and then asked where I was sitting. I explained on the first floor (Not knowing the term orchestra.), in the center part and about 6 or 8 rows back. She said, "Oh, orchestra, center, sixth or eighth row?" I screwed up and asked her where she was sitting and she responded, "In the balcony, off to the side and three rows from the top." Then I screwed up again by saying, "When you go to a Broadway show that isn't a musical, the balcony is generally the best place to sit. You can easily see all the action from there." She demanded to know where I got the tickets. I explained that the Opera Company had given tickets to the school and the band teacher gave them to my buddy and I. She went from being a bit annoyed to being really irritated.
I went back to my buddy, we drank the wine and went back to our seats. We both enjoyed the rest of the opera. While I have seen other operas, live, I don't think that my buddy has ever attended another opera.
The following week in school was the last of the year before our winter break. For that week, the Intermediate Algebra teacher did little more than glare at me. It was obvious that at the opera, I had touched a very raw nerve in my Intermediate Algebra teacher.
It wasn't until the following year and my mother had started working as school secretary that I found out how irritated the Intermediate Algebra teacher was about the wine and opera. She was even more irritated when my mother told her that I had told her and my father that I had bought wine at the opera.
So what is the lesson in all this? Read the Libretto before watching the opera. And bar tenders are very appreciative of tips.