Beating the traffic but losing the game

'Join us at the opera', we said, quite smugly, to a friend visiting from out of town. 'We've got great seats and we know the perfect place for a late dinner after the performance'.

We've enjoyed probably seven or eight productions at the LA Opera in the past couple of years, and we think we've got it down to a fine art. After a couple of stressful trips, battling rush hour and rushing through labyrinthine parking structures to make our seats in time, we have figured out the best exit off the 110, the best way to cut through Downtown LA during rush hour and the optimum parking spot. Not just the best lot, but the best corner of that lot so that we minimize walking (and rushing). Now we know, too, which seats are nearest the best exits for the loo. So we think we've pretty much nailed the whole opera experience.

After the show we always go to Kendall's. It's right underneath the opera house, and popular with the LA Opera company. We like the pile of instruments that stack up by the door, and the musicians in varying degrees of black tie. But we have at times had to take a table in the section far away from the bar, which doesn't have the same vibe. So now we leave the opera rather promptly, in order to secure the best seats at the bar.

Yes, I'm afraid we've become those annoying people who leave before the applause ends. We do stay for the first round of bows, of course. But we are out of our seats and down the stairs while the performers are still on the stage. I used to think it was bad form, but it's worth it for those great bar seats. For example, last week we sat next to Morris Robinson, having just seen him belting it out as Zaccaria in Nabucco.

That was the same night that we got our comeuppance. It turns out it is not always smart to leave before the final curtain. Sometimes we are too clever for our own good. And that annoying LA desire to beat the traffic should sometimes be resisted.

It transpires that at the end of the performance, the entire house join in to sing the fabulous, rousing 'Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves'. It is my absolutely favorite piece from any opera (I know, not that surprising, it's a crowd pleaser). I love to sing, especially with other people - blame it on my choir girl days. An entire opera house full of people singing my favorite piece - the thought of it almost brings to me tears. And while all that was going on, we and our poor trusting house guest were congratulating ourselves for having placed our cocktail and supper order in good time. Ugh! We've become the worst kind of Los Angeleno.

I'd like to say I've learned my lesson. But I suspect we'll still try to head out before the final curtain. After all, most performances don't involve such a bonus. Which of course makes it all the more once-in-a-lifetime, and all the more galling. As Thoreau has it 'to regret deeply is to live afresh'. So we'll probably enjoy that perfect spot at the bar even more, at least.