I went to see Richard Thompson at the London Palladium last night. It was, as is noted elsewhere, a stunning gig, the best thing I’ve seen since lockdown so far with RT on top form.
I had been looking forward to the gig for ages, all the more so as I had managed to get my hands on tickets for me and my friends in the centre of the front row – seats A10-A14. Imagine my horror when, as we made our way to the seats, I saw two of them were already occupied – by a couple whose age looked to be of a piece with the rest of the audience. I’m guessing they were probably man and wife.
The support act was playing so there followed a hushed but tense discussion with the man. I asked if he was sure they were in the right seats, he confirmed (politely but firmly) that they were, I used the torch on my phone to compare our tickets and pointed out that his were in row I and that he must have misread the letter as a number. The poor guy was disappointed and a bit crestfallen but, went off to find the right seats.
If that had been me, it would have spoilt my evening. I’d have sat through the gig in my excellent seats in the middle of the 9th row fretting about whether I’d made a fool of myself and telling myself that my other half would not have let me forget it for years. I do hope that the gentleman was made of sterner stuff than I and that he enjoyed the brilliant concert every bit as much as I did – and that his wife (if wife she is) doesn’t mock him for the mistake.
Am I alone in thinking that if I’d been in his position, I’d have been unable to avoid pangs of gloom for weeks ahead? Have others here managed to make themselves miserable in circumstances where they should have been thoroughly happy?
I think this is one of those “dance like no one’s watching… because it’s highly probable that’s the case” things.
Presumably everyone has, at one time or other, sat in the wrong seats and had it pointed out to them. It’s all part of life’s rich tapestry.
It’s not something I’d allow to spoil my evening and, on the occasions where I’ve been the one pointing out to someone that they were in the wrong place, I’ve not thought less of them. Quite the opposite, usually: people who are distracted enough to get this sort of thing wrong often seem the types to have something interesting on their minds: it adds a certain allure.
A few years ago I went with a mate, one of the gentlest, most gloriously accident prone people I know, to see some god awful film at the IMAX. Halfway through the trailers it was pointed out to us we were in the wrong seats. We made our apologies and were shuffling down the row in the darkness when my mate spilled what was approximately a gallon of Diet Pepsi directly onto the top of the head of the guy in front, completely drenching him. Said guy stood up and turned round; he was absolutely bloody massive and looked ready to kill, a picture postcard of a person you wouldn’t want to spill a drink on. His girlfriend stared up at us with wide eyes, which seemed to say only “dear god, must I watch my partner kill again”.
My mate began to apologise, and came out with what can only be described as an extended monologue delivered by Hugh Grant on helium: “oh my goodness, I’m so terribly, terribly sorry – please, let me go fetch some napkins, etc”. Incredibly, his sheer harmlessness seemed to confuse and defuse the behemoth, who eschewed physical retribution and instead contented himself with staring us both down as we eventually shuffled away, apologies still ringing in the air.
I think of that moment often. It’s a source of constant joy. Life would be much the worse without this sort of thing; we’re all just superannuated monkeys trying our best to muddle through, after all.
Arf! Your mate’s clumsiness was probably a better viewing experience than the fillum.
Almost certainly so!
Bit different, but I went to see The Stones in Toronto in 2013. I had mediocre tickets. Day of the show I was checking online and could see there was a row of about 20 seats that was empty with an amazing view of the stage, these tickets going for more than twice what mine had cost. I even checked when I was inside the building and they were still available. So I went over and sat there. Nobody came, nobody complained…
I hear you. I’m the same I think. I always marvel at people that can shrug off these things. I have an acute sense of embarrassment.
I went with my son to see The Waterboys at De La Warr Pavilion in Bexhill a few years ago. we were sat in our seats when a couple came up with duplicate tickets. When it became clear that we both had the same seat numbers they went away to get a member of staff who asked if we had bought our tickets at Resident in Brighton, which we had. They then said that this happened quite often and showed us to better seats. It was all very civilised.
I think this sort of self-consciousness is something the couple should (hopefully) have grown out of by the age you describe. A lot of us grow up with an absolute dread of being ‘told off’ but then you realise that the worst that could happen, unless you annoy someone like the enormous chap in Bingo’s reply, is that a polite person will point out the error and you will politely comply.
A few years ago, The Light and I went to see Bat Out of Hell in the closing days of its west end run and took her daughter along. We bought cheap tickets way back in the gods but not only was the run reaching the end of its commercial appeal, but England were playing in the world cup that afternoon. This combination meant that there were lots, and I mean complete rows, of empty, much more expensive, seats further forward.
Having checked out the seating situation before we set off I led us up to the balcony and headed straight for seats in the centre a couple of rows back from the railing. The Light’s daughter, then 21, was absolutely mortified. ‘What is someone asks to see our tickets?’ she whispered. ‘Then we’ll move, but surely it’s better for the cast as well as us to fill the front seats as much as possible.’
In the event a group of tourists, who I guess had bought last minute half-price tickets, did show up for the seats I had selected so we moved along a few. The Light’s daughter remained deeply uncomfortable throughout in case we got ‘found out’. I do the same sort of thing at events where I haven’t done my homework but can move during the interval to better seats which we have seen from the furthest points. I once relocated us at the Royal Opera House from £12 seats to ones which would have cost well into three figures.
Of course, the key difference is that I was doing it deliberately whereas Steve’s interlopers were there accidentally, but really, what’s the worst that can happen? If the doomsday scenario is Steve saying, ‘I’m terribly sorry but I think you’re in our seats’ I think I can live with the consequences.
Seat hopping after the interval from cheapo seats behind pillars to empty ones up the front is a regular occurrence at St. Georges in Bristol. Fair play to those who have caught on that it’s possible, I’d do the same if it wasn’t for the fact that I always buy my tickets there about 3 nanoseconds after they go on sale, and get the seats I want from the off.
The good tickets there are rarely stratospherically priced, and even if they are, the view and the sound from the last-to-sell-out little balcony is superb in any case.
I got on a train once and found someone in my reserved seat. I showed him my ticket. He said “Ah but your ticket is for the 10.45, and this is the 10.25.” I explained to him that the reason my ticket said 10.45 was because I HAD JUST GOT ON AT A DIFFERENT STOP, and it was now about a minute after 10.45, and time as we perceive it moves in a more or less regular forward direction, rather like trains do. He looked from his ticket, to his watch, and to my ticket. “But it was the 10.25 when I got on,” he said.
It also said Coach C and this was Coach D, but fuck me I wasn’t going to start explaining how the alphabet works as well.
I believe the above is the thought experiment which lead Einstein to develop the Theory of Special Relativity.
Bloody Romans…
I have often sat in unreserved seats on a train even when I have a reservation, reason being everybody is crammed into one (or two) carriage(s) (or “car” over here) and there are sometimes acres of space in the ones with unreserved seats.
Doesn’t everyone do this? I’ve never understood why the train companies seem to cram all the reservations on quiet trains together.
They are part of the COVID spreading conspiracy.
Oh, that was you was it..?
Reserved seats? What a quaint idea. Here in GWR land there effectively doesn’t seem to be such a thing, at least, not in the real world. The only seat reservations I can recall seeing are those made by briefcases, laptop bags and coats, which always seemed to be right next to someone staring stony faced and blankly out of the window as I shuffled along the carriage past them.
Honestly don’t think that would bother me too much. But then I’m the person who booked tickets for himself, his wife, and two friends, for a sold out and hotly anticipated play at the Barbican only to find when we got there and showed our tickets, that we were 24 hours early. Enormously to the staff’s credit they didn’t tell us to bugger off and come back tomorrow but actually managed to find four house seats for us just before the performance started. Thank goodness the play, which starred Brian Cox, was brilliant and by the end of the evening my faux pas had (almost) been forgotten.
Whereas I turned up to a charity ball in black tie, with my best man and our better havles, 24 hours late. There was a line-dancing class on instead.
We went to the Chinese restaurant up the road and were treated like returning gentry.
A mate of mine’s wife was once invited to a fancy dress party.
She and a pal decided to go as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. They bought plastic weapons, made huge papier-mâché shells and were sticking on green swimming caps and plentiful green make up when they received the following text from a friend (who clearly had no commitment to comedy):
“For god’s sake don’t come – it’s black tie”.
A group of us turned up 24hrs late to see Lloyd Cole play about 15 years ago (one guy had bought the tickets, held onto them and misread the date). Then he came through again a couple of years later and we couldn’t find out where to get tickets easily so we thought we’d just turn up and pay on the door. It was sold out. Finally got to see him in Auckland at the third attempt about 3 year ago and he was brilliant.
‘In’t space BRILLIANT!!!!’
Ah, the other Brian Cox…
Things can, indeed, only get better
Oh, they missed a golden opportunity to get Brian to say his newly-immortalised catchphrase “Fuck off!”
A couple of years ago my wife asked me to book tickets for her and a friend for a touring production of the King & I. As the date got nearer I kept ‘reminding’ (nagging) her about the upcoming event so that the both of them were suitably prepared. On the night in question they duly went off to the theatre in all their finery…only to find out that they had turned up a full year before the show was due to be on! I had genuinely overlooked that little detail. Oh, how we laughed!
Centuries ago I went to a lot of gigs with a particular friend who, as soon as we got in the venue would head for as near to the front as he could get and park himself in the best seats until the rightful owners came along to claim them. Mortified, I pretended I only spoke German (I don’t) and pointed them in my friend’s direction who would be attempting a masterclass in avoiding eye contact. We invariably got moved on, but on one occasion nobody came to claim the seats. Ozzy at the Hammersmith Odeon on The Ultimate Sin tour. Blimey, that was a long time ago.
I was sat on an Iberia flight from Madrid to London Heathrow with a work colleague. A couple came up and suggested we were in their seats. We checked our boarding cards and, no, we were in exactly the right seats. They checked theirs and they had the same seat numbers. They found a member of the cabin crew who checked, scratched their head and checked again. And then pointed out to my colleague and I that we were in the London Gatwick flight and the Heathrow flight was the next gate…
Bloody Londoners having more than one airport. So arrogant and entitled!
Big night out – birthday treat to see Billy Connolly. Mum and I took a day off work to head up to the Big Smoke, meet Dad and have dinner pre show.
Dinner was great. I can’t remember where we ate, but I remember it was excellent.
Got to Hammersmith. Mum went off to the Ladies, Dad went to get a refresher or two for us. Gave me the tickets.
Got back. “Dad, why are the tickets dated tomorrow?”
“Whaaaat? Lemme see”
Tickets duly handed over.
“Right. Not a word to your Mother”
I ended up in a seat, Dad sat on a step, and Mum was elsewhere in the venue.
Disappointed? Not a jot.
I believe Billy Connolly was a surprise guest at Cropredy one year, he turned up a week early and wondered why the field was a touch empty, well apart from a few cows.
(Glissando harp noise)
It’s 1984 and Depeche Mode are playing the Hammersmith Odeon. A few weeks earlier, I happened to hear Peter Powell on Radio 1 announce the show. Immediately, I sent a blank signed cheque to the box office asking for the best 4 seats possible and enclosed an SAE. A couple of days later I received the tickets in the post. Front row! Doing that now would bankrupt me….but I think it was about 4 quid for each ticket.
Anyway, we got there and four girls were in our seats! When we talked to them, they pleaded and pleaded and cried and cried – so we decided to “hide” them. We sat with our feet up against the stage which provided a leg-canopy for our new teenybopper stowaway chums underneath. It was all going very well until an eagle-eyed security man spotted this just before Depeche Mode came on. He started to threaten us with expulsion – thinking WE had planned this and were trying to smuggle in our girlfriends for free.
This is when we 100% betrayed them. Never seen them before. They were in our seats when we got here (which was true, to be fair).
Like the OP, I was totally in the right but I did feel quite guilty because they were in a total, wailing, weeping, highly upset state when they were led away. Still pleading with us to reconsider. Those nearby must have thought we were right bastards.
Mode fans with girlfriends….?
(Sorry)
My wife and l have turned up at Newcastle Airport for flights to New York, only to be told at the boarding desk that we were a day early, so then had to retrieve the car from the parking, return home, and come back the next day. How we laughed.
Also, myself and a friend turned up late for a New York flight from Heathrow as we were drinking in The Good Mixer in Camden, having a splendid time, and had the great idea (at the time) that we would plead ignorance, and pretend we got the date wrong, so they would just put us on another flight. Luckily, that worked, so it was well worth it.
I turned up quite late-ish to the airport in Rome once for a flight to UK. I couldn’t find the flight on the board so asked someone official who looked at my ticket and explained “your flight leaves from Fulmicino airport, this is Ciampino”. I’d got the wrong airport and would never make it to the right one in time for the flight. Seeing my distraughtedness the offical smiled, “It’s ok though, you’ve got the wrong day as well, your flight is for tomorrow.” Two negatives make a positive and so I felt very clever.
On a related note, after a Waterboys gig in Liverpool, myself and a friend had the offer to stay with some girls in Chester. We were given their information and drove off to find the house, and when we arrived on the outskirts of Chester, got their address out. Only to discover they lived in Crewe, not Chester. Our mistake as we hadn’t heard them properly. Duly arrived in Crewe later, to much hilarity.
There’s always trouble for Waterboys on the road to Liverpool.
I had tickets to see Louis CK in Edinburgh a few years ago, when he was still a well regarded comedian rather than a renowned sex pest. The friends who were meant to be coming couldn’t make it so I sold the tickets on through Viagogo or one of those sites (I know, but I only charged a little over face value). The people who bought the tickets were obviously sat right beside us and all was fine until during the support act, a woman appeared insisting they were in her seats. I could hear the panic in the bloke’s voice, clearly worried he’d been ripped off in some way and I was equally panicked, wondering if I’d managed to muck it up somehow. Anyway, turns out we were in row D and she should’ve been in row DD further back in the stalls. When this became clear she wander off without a word of apology and we sat awkwardly despite the fact that neither of us had actually done anything wrong.
A few years ago I drove from Watford to Putney to see “Hammer Of The Honky-Tonk Gods”-hitmaker Bill Kirchen and his band at The Half Moon.
Only to realise as I walked into the pub that, despite having the ticket printout in my pocket, I’d made a long trek to the wrong venue and they were in fact playing at The Borderline, in the West End.
I hurried back to where I’d parked up, jumped in the car and drove as fast as I could to near Lancaster Gate tube station, parked nearby and got the Central line to Tottenham Court Road and scurried to the venue.
I missed the first set completely but I caught all of the second set so not all bad.
This doesn’t show me in a good light…
I got tickets for me and the wife to see Skyfall on the opening night, as I tend to get tickets for all Bond films on the opening nights so that I don’t hear any spoilers. I treated us to the expensive seats, which are comfier, more leg room, etc, as I was going through a bad patch with the back pain. Anyway, about a minute after we sat down a couple came and told us we were in their seats. I showed them that they were mistaken and we had tickets for those seats, but they did too. We both grumbled about the box office making such a mistake, but they were okay to go and take two of the cheaper seats. It was only when we noticed that another couple were in the process of turfing them out of the seats they had moved to that my wife looked at our tickets again and noticed we had booked them for the following night. However, by this time my wife was too embarrassed to go and admit our mistake, so we kept schtum, particularly as we had driven all the way to Sheffield, to take the kids to my mum’s whilst we went out, as we struggled to get babysitters. But then when it happened again to them, shortly before the film started I wanted the ground to swallow me up. But they found new seats, so again we just sat there and squirmed. Our guilt was then taken off the scale on the way out when we bumped into the couple, who had watched the film from the end of the front row, and they cheerfully said “well that was a bit of a kerfuffle wasn’t it”. So if the couple are reading, it was, ahem, all my wife’s fault…