The people at the Metropolitan Opera House are Nazis.

That is what I learned last night at my first trip to the opera.

My dear friend Emily is in town with her mother and were going to see Manon last night at the Met. Wanting to spend time with our friend and after hearing her go off on how amazing Renee Fleming was in this role, Katie, Steph and I decided to buy standing room tickets to the pretty-much-sold-out show…

We all rushed out of work to meet up for a lovely Indian dinner beforehand. I guess we were enjoying the food and conversation so much that we didn’t really keep close tabs on the clock. Before we knew it, we were rushing out of there to get to Lincoln Center on time. Katie had to get some books from Barnes and Noble for work today, so she left 10 minutes before us and said she’d meet us at The Met. When we finally got to Lincoln Center Plaza, they were already playing the chimes. It was like witnessing 50 Cinderella’s hear the chime of midnight—everyone was running across the plaza in terror at the thought of being late. When I got to the lobby, I found out why. The ushers were literally YELLING at us to get to our seats. We politely told them we had to wait for our friend. They yelled at us some more. Finally, I went in to go find Stacy, who was already there, while Stephy continued to wait for Katie. As I went to walk in the door to my seat, the lady at the door literally slammed it in my face and declared, “No more! You are going to have to go watch the first part of the show in the room to your left.” What a bitch.

As it turned out, Katie, Steph and I had to watch the first two acts in this room/detention-center to the left of the performance hall. We tried to leave to go sit down during the short break between the first and second acts and the ushers yelled at us once again, saying “Who told you there was a seating now?! Go back to the room. You have another 15 minutes before you can sit.” It was miserable.

They had the performance projected onto this teeny screen way up in the front of the room and it was all blurry. It was like watching the show with severe cataracts—Which, incidentally is what approximately 98% of the audience was probably doing. I have never seen so many old people in my life outside of the old folks home…Our little group was approximately 1/8th the average age of the audience. These old ladies just seemed to be everywhere and just wouldn’t get out of your way. I think I ran down like 14 old women throughout the evening. And the stench of all the different old-lady perfumes was just revolting…ick.

The worst part is that when we finally got to be “seated” we weren’t actually seated…because we had standing room tickets…so we had to stand for the next three hours…Who knew operas were so long?? This bad boy got out just after midnight—don’t these old people need to go to bed??

All in all, the opera itself was quite lovely—not that I’ve seen another one to actually compare it to. I must say, though, I will probably be sticking with ballet for the most part from now on. The people at ABT don’t yell at you.