Hey guy, just stop it.

Tonight I was seated next to an elderly gentleman who saw the show we were about to see [A Chorus Line] twenty-four times. And I know this because he announced it to the guy he sat next to, the guy who sat in front of me, the guy behind us, the guy passing by in the aisle and the guy two rows down. He also showed me his jazz hands and I felt his jazz elbows as they swung into my forearms which were not on the shared armrest that he hogged, but atop my handbag.

I know his taste in men now, young men who have a great physique also known as Swing Boys 1-4 and Chorus Boys 1 - ALL. And heard his disregard for the "Tits and Ass" girl cause she was annoying. (I didn't think she was bad at all.) Lastly, I smelled the Garlique he had begun to digest a few days ago that accompanied his singing voice which would erupt loudly only at the parts he knew best, after all he's only seen it 24x.