The Goat

Today I went to see a play called "The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?" by Edward Albee. I went by myself, as part of Carol's Club, a group advertised for singles and people whose partners don't like the theatre. At the last play I went to at this theatre, there was all kinds of talent, lots of dashing tall young men who looked like they were in the appropriate age group, and were dressed interestingly like they were sort of artistic or intellectual. So I guess I was expecting a similar crowd, or hoping for it. But it turned out to be all old ladies, all but one, but he was more interested in the young assistant who was making up name tags and never came over to talk.

The play itself was about the betrayal by a man of his perfect marriage, even though he still loves his wife very much, and the aftermath where he has broken everything in all of their lives and it can never be repaired. And it also involves murderous jealousy of the Other Woman. So it was all a bit close to home. I stayed for the discussion afterwards and got to hear the lead actor speak, but although it was a great play, very elegantly written and dealing with so many contemporary themes in such an insightful way, still, the whole experience was fairly disappointing.

Why did he leave me in this state having to go places by myself? Where does one go to meet eligible 35-45 year old guys in this big anonymous city? I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself, after a good week. I will keep on keeping on, though, sort of just treading water to get through this stage, until my future arrives. But god it can get lonely.