Tuesday, December 14, 2004


So, this year, Hubber and I decided to start a new family tradition. Seeing the Nutcracker ballet. Since we don't have enough crap going on during the holidays, we figured, what the hell, let's throw in 3 $60 seats to support the Houston Ballet. We have some extra cash...and we're high-roller-wannabes, so it was the perfect plan! That is, the perfect plan that turned into 2 hours of hellish torture. It wasn't the performance that nearly drove us to a murderous rage. It wasn't the children, laughing, talking, crying, running around, bumping our seats, either. It was the lady sitting directly behind us. She hummed every fucking song...loudly and OFF KEY! We didn't blow nearly $200 on tickets to hear this beyotch ruin christmas, we spent money to listen to the orchestra and watch a goshdarned BALLET! It took every ounce of patience I could muster not to turn around and smack the shit out of that lady. What the hell was she trying to prove, anyway? Did she want us all to know that she KNEW those tunes? EVERYBODY knows those damn tunes - they've been pounded in our heads every holiday season since we were babies! I hate that lady. I hate her for ruining our first annual trip to the Nutcracker. I hate her for being the one clear memory I'll ever have of that event. But I hate her even more because now every time I hear a Nutcracker song, I'll think of HER! She was ugly, too. I think she even stunk. Like shit. Baking in the hot, hot sun.

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