In the dream...
I went to the theatre with my mom, my aunt, maybe a cousin or a friend. Although we are decades apart in ages, in the dream, all the years were somewhat equalised. My aunt was still older than her sister, the cousin or friend was still older than me, but the difference wasn't so great as it really is. There was also a man, I don't know who he was supposed to be. He was a relentless flirt. He had brought wine, which he shared with us all, and he took keen interest in each of us, but it seemed he wasn't really listening, just thinking up new incisive question with which to make us feel somehow special or important.
We were waiting for the play to start for a long time. The chairs were uncomfortable, and I had long since seen through the man's flattery. Finally, the lights went down and the play began. It was like every other overly fanciful school production of Shakespeare I have seen in the last ten years, with pastel paints from the "oops" shelf at the hardware store and glittery fabrics in remnants squares as shawls and veils over thrift store prom dresses. We were maybe five lines into it, when the lights came up and a matronly woman shouted from the back of the audience that they were selling chocolates. The actors on stage seemed annoyed by the interruption but just rolled their eyes, sat bored, and waited. We all giggled nervously about it, but eventually it became clear that the play was not going to continue until the woman felt enough revenue had been generated through chocolate sales. My aunt got up eventually and bought one for each of us.
We were waiting for the play to start for a long time. The chairs were uncomfortable, and I had long since seen through the man's flattery. Finally, the lights went down and the play began. It was like every other overly fanciful school production of Shakespeare I have seen in the last ten years, with pastel paints from the "oops" shelf at the hardware store and glittery fabrics in remnants squares as shawls and veils over thrift store prom dresses. We were maybe five lines into it, when the lights came up and a matronly woman shouted from the back of the audience that they were selling chocolates. The actors on stage seemed annoyed by the interruption but just rolled their eyes, sat bored, and waited. We all giggled nervously about it, but eventually it became clear that the play was not going to continue until the woman felt enough revenue had been generated through chocolate sales. My aunt got up eventually and bought one for each of us.