I was in town, as you do from time to time. And I wanted to visit the bathroom. You know how it is. It starts with a wish, then a need then an urgent need. There was no fast food restaurant nearby. Normally fast-food restaurants are good placed to visit the toilet. You enter nonchalantly, pretending to buy something. You stand in the queue for a while. You look at your watch once or twice, then leave the queue and nip upstairs. Why do they always have the toilets upstairs? They don't discourage me, you know.
Anyway, there was no fast-food restaurants in that part of town. The ironmonger was of no use. They don't have public toilets there. Neither does the butcher or the hairdresser.
I was not far from the theatre. They're bound to have a toilet there. I stood outside for a while pretending to read the notice board. I entered the foyer and read the posters to see what's playing during the week. Then whilst no one was looking, especially the lady at the ticket kiosk, as she got distracted by a phone call I walked through a door on the left. Down a corridor, then another, and I found the toilet.
On the way out, I must have lost my way, I took the wrong turning and I heard some noises of people talking. In order to avoid them I walked through some curtains and found myself on stage. There were some other people there in various costumes. They looked like ancient costumes like medieval perhaps or something like that. There was this fat woman wearing a helmet with horns singing. I stood there, not daring to move, hoping no one would notice. She continued singing. Another woman actor responded in song also. It was some sort of duet.
The audience noticed me and started tittering. Not outright laughter but short spasms of giggles. That's how I would describe it. Maybe my clothing did not fit in with the play they were performing.
How rude, I thought. Not customer friendly at all. I could have been a paying client who lost his way on the way back to his seat. I tried to go off stage the way I came in, but by then some actors had moved there, as part of the play they were performing no doubt, and blocked my way.
"The other way!" whispered the rude actor.
I moved the other way and slipped on something on the floor. It was like a cloth, or some kind of shawl or cloak that an actor had dropped. I tripped and fell on my face to the ground. The audience roared with laughter as the curtain was brought down.
A couple of men grabbed me off stage. I pretended not to understand and spoke in a French accent, "Comment ... je ne comprends pas ... where eez zee way to zee audience seating place?"
They thought I was one of the spectators and politely led me to the main seating area where I found a seat. They did not bother to ask if I had a ticket. They were probably concerned that I may have hurt myself in the fall and would sue them in Court. I pretended to limp.
The play continued as the curtain went up again. I waited for an appropriate moment and slipped out of the theatre and took a bus home.
The problem is, now I've told you this, I'm not sure whether it happened or not.