I ushered for The Vagina Monologues tonight. The show started at 8 pm and I stuck around outside the auditorium for another half hour for any stranglers. At 8:30, I packed everything up and took it into the sound room. When I came out, an older black lady was sitting far from the auditorium doors, near the elevators.
"Are you here for the show?" I asked, putting on my coat.
She smiled and nodded.
"Do you need a ticket?"
"Oh, I have one."
"But the show's already started."
I stepped closer, putting on my scarf and hat.
"Oh yes, I was in there." She shook her head. "I can't stay in there. I can't listen to that."
I didn't know what to say and I fidgeted with my bag.
"Them talking about body parts like that," she added, "I can't abide it."
I recalled the dialogue I had heard when I was stepping out: " ... I remember the first time I saw it, all red and wrinkly and shiny. I couldn't believe it ..."
"My husband brought me here. He's still in there. He can watch it, but I can't. I just ... it's too much for me. Maybe I'm old-fashioned?"
My mind tried to come up with something comforting and all I could say was "To each his own."
"Yes, yes!" She sounded so happy to hear that. "That's it exactly. To each his own."
"Good night."
"You have a safe one."
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