Funny Evening

It's a good life, weekends spring eternal. 
Friends gather round, plan a Saturday eve together. 
But it's not the movies this time, no siree! 
You see, my friends as you shall see, are quirky. 

A hotshot thespian is in town, they gush. 
Reviving a 30 year old play, they say in a rush.
My interest is piqued, denial anyway not a choice. 
So acquiesce I do, in a tiny, unsure voice.

The stage is set amidst the lush greens of a golf course. 
Out of my element, I feel, surrounded by elitist discourse.
Yet Indians remain Indians as is soon proved,
Unheeding a scene pause, to the bar everyone moved.

The actors strutted about the stage, forceful
Genuine moments of hilarity did ensue, though unplentiful
So the so so play ended, and we departed. 
For the second time then, expectations and reality, parted. 

For dinner, a live music noisy den they chose
And in all that din, I am now, confused in poetry and prose
For it's difficult to maintain coherence here and now
Far removed from expectations this eve, yet funny, I don't know how. 

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