Yes, “Fark”.  It stunk, man.  Shakespeare in Delaware Park in Buffalo is one of the country’s largest outdoor Shakespeare festivals.  My galpals, and I arrived early to get a good spot.  We decided to sit on a blanket so we could picnic properly with our grilled veggies, tabouli, salad, fruit, and white wine.  Yum.   But as the place filled in, people in their chairs sat in front of us.  Way fewer people were on blankets than I remembered from the last time I was there.   This produced a conundrum for us.  We couldn’t bloody-well see the stage.  No matter where we might move with our picnic, we’d be in the same predicament.  See the pic for our view.  Fark.

Gal Pal 2 (hates being named) suggested I stand up and say, “OK everybody, listen up, this will only take a minute.  Everyone with chairs, move to the right, and everyone with blankets, move to the left.  Thank you very much.”

This made perfect sense, it would have been hysterical, and the only reason I didn’t do it was because the play had already started.  Damn.   She really wanted me to do it, and she knew if anyone in that crowd would do it, it’d be me.  But we snickered like naughty school girls about  me doing it .  We apologized to the ladies behind us (who were sitting in bigassed view-blocking chairs), but they said they couldn’t see or hear anything either anyway (in spite of their chairs), they were just there to enjoy their wine and the breeze.

Furthermore, the director of the play took Richard III and turned this Shakespearean play into a 21st century Mad Men version.  Nay, nay, I say, this is blasphemous.   Fark.  I love my new made-up word.  Says it all, doesn’t it?

So we whispered throughout and laughed as if we were in church at the most solemn times when you can’t hold your laughter in.  Bonnie took a picture of us that showed my Freddy Fat Chin as if it was a real-live goiter which made us snort through our noses.  We decided to leave at intermission before we were sshhhushed or asked to leave.

Love,

Damaged Goods