I love a diva

Every now and then my pal Gus lets me play dress up and invites me to his amazing Parterre level box at the Metropolitan Opera. Inevitably, I almost always say yes (except for the night after my birthday as it was the night after my birthday and I was too busy self-medicating to get off my couch to take a shower). I leave feeling cultured and superior (to my alter ego, Rhonda who was mentally at home watching Country Music Television and stuffing her face with cheese fries). Last night, while seeing La Boheme, it struck me why The Opera is so addicting.

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