Why I See Shows

I went to this awful show the other night
Awful, oh Lord
You should see my program
I bit right through it
In the second act
So I wouldn't scream

I went because somebody I did a show with once
Had six lines in it
And wanted me to come
And it was in this converted laundromat
With the washers still lined up
And everything

And we were on folding chairs
And the lighting was harsh
And at one point
All the characters took turns
Eating a baby
That was made out of grape jello

It was one of those moments where you think--

This could be one of those raw, gorgeous instances
Of independent and intimate theater

And instead it's just awful
And you'd wished you'd stayed home
And clipped your toenails instead

But after the play
When they were passing around
The grape jello baby
Because it was the only concessions they had
I got to talking to all the people who were there
And, you know, we all knew each other
Because who else would go to something like this
Aside from people who know the actors
And the occasional homeless person
Who wanders in off the street

I mean, they weren't doing this in the Village
This was small town
This was, like--
I think we were down the street
From a methadone clinic
And a kosher deli

But you know
I don't go to theater
For the theater
I mean, not most of the time
Some of the time, yes
Oh, and I know all this sounds horrible
But it's TRUE!

I see shows for the people
My friends
All these theater people
Who sit through this and that
Because that's what we do
We're a community
We're a family
And we enjoy each other's company

So we watch a lousy production of this
And a lousy production of that
And what we enjoy about it
What we actually like

Is sitting there with each other
Enjoying each other's company

It's like family dinner, or something

That's why I see shows

Oh, and I also happen to like jello
Quite a bit