a "dream" and a....

blowup. First the "Dream": Cityboy just was third in a lottery drawing at the Public and was able to get a vouher (that must be redeemed later) for tonight's performance at the Delacourt. Is there any Shakespearean play that I have seen more than A Midsummer Night's Dream? I doubt it. My first performance of it was at the Metropolitan Opera House--I must have been around 11--in a production directed by Robert Helpmann. Lots of choreography---I remember the Puck, running from place to place. My memory is I was enthralled by it--after that, many other productions, including the Peter Brook one in January 1970---one upstairs in a restaurant-bar in Cobble Hill, that I liked very much. and, more recently, the one that Friends Seminary performed in December of last year. And of course, the amazing Balacnhine ballet, perhaps my favorite production of all. Yet, though perhaps you may say I am "sated" by two many Dreams, I am really looking forward to this one. Lots of interesting casting; I am interested to see the choices that these actors and the director make. Will report on  it tomorrow.
   Last night, an interesting night. Hunger set in around 7, but I was tired, no long trip in the offing. Instead, I opted for the hummus place on Broadway between 70th and 71street. Ordered the hummus sandwich---picked it up, but the place was crowded, I was annoyed by the crowd---super young---and I bypassed a table near the vegetable stand to move to the back. One group had their luggage stacked in the aisle. Maybe this is what set me off---I was also carrying a book with the tray, but as I began to sit down, something happened and my sandwich dropped to the floor. I wanted to EXPLODE. I was sure I would not get this one replaced---plus there seemed like a long line to get the the cashier, who was also ordering. Feeling frustrated. I slammed my tray to the table---made a very loud noise---but no one responded. I picked up the sandwich---luckily only a bit of the front was touched by the dirt on the rug leading to the door. The paper pocket had saved the rest. What should I do? Just leave---really frustrated and explosive. Then I decided I would eat the part that had not been touched by dirt---and I continued to do so. Actually, it soothed my stomach, which was what it was intended to do. But I just felt the place was so hostile and self involved. Once again, no one said anything to me, so there will be no repercussions---still I felt enraged, and that I had put myself in danger. (How, not sure?) Finally left, walked down to Lincoln Center, waited for the 11 bus (a long time, what else is new?) and went to Lansdowne Road, my baseball bar in 44th and 10th Avenue. Thank God I did, the place was very quiet---lots of chances to watch the Mets and Yankee games in an un hassled atomostphere---and a nice conversation with an actor who goes there often, who is about my age (probably a little younger). When I left about two hours later, I felt calm, and luckily, a bus was right there, so I got home soon. No further problems.
   So that is it---will report about the "dream" and any after party tomorrow.