Last night, Kathy and I went to see the Pulitzer-winning play The Gin Game at The Gaslight Theater, our favorite nearby playhouse. The show itself was great, but was enhanced immeasurably by the fact that it was Senior Citizen Night.

There were a flock of retirees sitting in the section off to our right, who would whisper to their neighbors during the course of the show. Due apparently to their hearing loss, however, what they had intended for their neighbors was broadcast loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the theater. (I came to think of this as the Senior sotto voce.)

While the on-stage action already had us in stitches, hearing a particularly dramatic scene capped with “She’s really worked up!” and the between-scene darkness punctuated with “They’re moving the chairs around now!” was a wonderful, rich cream cheese icing on the cake. I had to stop looking at Kathy at one point because I was trying hard not to laugh, and the pent-up pressure was such that, given the slightest additional impetus, my lungs would have been expelled through my nose. (I’m trying, on doctor’s advice, to avoid that.)

Doggone, that was a great experience.