Coming in to Denver, I saw on my boarding pass (at 5:30a.m., as we boarded the red-eye to Denver from Dallas) that Phantom of the Opera was showing that same night. ThatManILove took the liberty of purchasing tickets, and when I got to the hotel, room service awaited. (I know, I’m spoiled!) Room service cost us out the butt, with a $28 dollar delivery charge (from the restaurant in.the.hotel, people!)! And when ThatManILove figured out he tipped on top of that, he wasn't a happy camper. This menu should read "feed the body, nourish the soul, max out your credit card".
Midway through the first half, I’m more than a little perplexed, but trying to keep it to myself. I just can’t get the flow of the story. And I’ve been to the opera in several cities, so I’m no dummy about it. I just chalked my inability to comprehend to the fact that I’d had little sleep, worry about my brother, intense meeting that day in Denver, etc. And, then…
TMIL: Do you understand what’s going on?
Me: Uh, yeah. I got it, I understand. (Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.)