I was sad when I realized the only Boreal concert I could possibly make it to this winter was the one at the River Run Centre.
The RRC is the premier performing arts centre in the city where two thirds of the band live (and where the other original band member also lives). This venue has hosted Boreal for a number of years now, and they are very popular there. So much so that they get booked to perform on the
main stage now.
Don't get me wrong. I love these ladies. I am super happy for them that they are being booked by a big and fancy venue. But I much prefer shows in intimate venues. And I, of course, prefer shows in venues where there is room to dance. The main space at the River Run is neither of these things. And the ticket price is harsh for my budget (which took a substantial hit when my father died, and is very probably quite desperate now). But it's Boreal. I'm not going to not go.
So I purchased tickets. In the back corner of the orchestra section, which the seating plan made look like there might actually be a tiny bit of space to dance beside these seats without being in anyone's way. Of course I know these seating plans are not always entirely drawn to scale. But it was the best I could do.
I was actually a bit nervous about going to the show last night. Let's get real here: dancing through a concert is not a medical necessity for me. I am capable of keeping my butt glued to my chair for two hours. I just really don't like to have to do it. Especially for a band I love as much as I love Boreal. But I knew when I purchased these tickets that I was potentially purchasing tickets to a no-dancing-room show. And I bought the tickets anyway.
Then last week turned into one in which I expended a huge amount of mental energy to get through enormously stressful ugly events, and I didn't have anything left to deal with even small stressors by the end of it. I was honestly a little bit afraid I might burst into tears if I showed up at the venue and discovered dancing was not going to be possible.
But I went. Found our seats. Discovered the space around them was
much tighter than the seating plan had made it look. There was barely room to sit in these seats, let alone dance in front of them!
Take a deep breath, Laura. Take a deep breath and don't cry.
As well as being an extremely stressful week, this past week was also a week of not giving up. So I approached the usher for our section and asked him if there was anywhere I could possibly dance for the performance without being in anyone's way.
The usher only looked mildly alarmed, bless him. He looked around and pointed to a spot which wouldn't have been in the way of anyone in the audience's sightlines. But it definitely looked like it might have been problematic for other reasons. (This venue is of a type where the seats are packed desperately close together, and occupying the aisles for any reason other than to access or depart from one's seat is usually considered a safety violation.) The usher said I might get away with dancing in this one spot, but he wasn't sure. He told me they were usually instructed not to allow members of the audience to stand up at all during performances.
I asked him who he would get in trouble with if he allowed me to dance in the location he had indicated.
He said, "That would be Chris, the house manager."
So I asked him where I might find Chris.
The usher told me, and I went back out to the lobby in search of Chris the house manager.
Found Chris with no difficulty.
"How can I help you?" he asked me.
So I said, "I'm an enormous fan of this band. But I've never actually sat down for one of their concerts. Is there anywhere in your house I could possibly dance without being in anyone's way?"
Chris asked to see my tickets, which I showed to him. Then he said, "Yes. I can find you a spot. But it won't be anywhere near these seats."
I said, "I will dance anywhere you let me."
So he took me back into the house, we collected my friend (who was sitting in one of the seats I had booked), and Chris the house manager escorted us both to the opposite corner of the house, to the rear box. This box held four seats. Moveable individual arm chairs, not the bolted down theatre seating in the main audience area. Chris warned me that he might need to put other people in the front two seats in the box, but that my friend and I could have the back half of the box, and that I could dance in it. Provided that I remained inside the box. I thanked him and assured him that I would.
I had purchased my tickets to last night's concert as soon as the band announced the show. The seats Chris gave to us never showed up as available on the ticketing website. So I'm assuming these are seats they reserve for VIPs (or maybe just for weirdos like me with oddball reasons for wanting different seats than the ones they'd purchased). Anyhow... he didn't end up putting anyone else in the box with us. So I pushed my chair into the back corner of the box, and we pushed the other two chairs into the front corner of the box, and my friend pulled her chair up close to the unused chairs, and I ended up having basically half of a 4-seat theatre box in which to dance. It was not as glorious as the huge dance floor I had at the show in Kingsville
last year. But it was still pretty freaking awesome.