Once upon a time, my family got a copy of the movie Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. We loved this movie to death, watching it dozens and dozens of times. We would dance around the living room during the musical numbers and we could quote nearly the whole movie. We each had our particular brother that we were most fond of. Yes, we definitely loved this movie.
In 2006, Merrick and I went to London. We wanted, of course, to take advantage of the massive theater offerings there and so, the first weekend, we looked up all the shows playing in London. To our surprise, there was a one week showing of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and tickets were only 10 pounds.
We decided to go ahead and see it, even though we guessed most of the group would think it was a bit ridiculous. And then, over dinner, when we mentioned our plans for the evening it became obvious that Seven Brides for Seven Brothers was practically everyone’s favorite musical. Who knew?
We ended up going as a group of thirty. Thirty! (In fact, a few people had not seen the show but when everyone else was clamoring about it being the best. show. ever, well, they weren’t about to miss out on the fun).
The theater was far away, but it was a really gorgeous old building with a spectacular theater inside and it was a very fun production.
We all danced and sang our way back to the tube station, rejoicing in our awesome London-living ways.
Then on the tube ride home, one of the boys (who was at least 22 or 23) decided it would be the world’s most awesome thing to, at each stop, dash out of the tube-car onto the platform, run to the doors on the other end of the car and get back in, and continuing looping around as many times as possible before the doors closed.
Never mind that there were a good 5 or 10 people (read: total strangers of the proper British type) sitting in the car, all of which he leaped over each time he raced past. All of whom looked at him with deep disgust.
Merrick and I pretended not to know him. The term “ugly Americans” was certainly passing through both of our minds.
Be aware that if we ever travel somewhere with you and you decide it will be hilarious and clever to do stupid tricks like that, we will probably “accidentally” lose you in the station. And we won’t even feel bad.
And we will certainly never invite you to come see “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” again.