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What makes a REALLY Premium Seat?

October 16, 2013

There’s been a recent focus – articles in The Stage newspaper and Ticketmaster’s audience survey – on ticket prices. With “The Book of Mormon” hitting £150, it got me wondering exactly what I would call a “premium” seat.

The obvious first. On design, we are talking my favourite end of my sofa. Comfy, wide seat and arm rest, high back and a recline that can be full or just “feet up.”

It’s nearest the TV screen, so, like the best premium seat in a theatre it has proximity to the performance, ensuring I can see faces close up and hear every word perfectly.

On arriving at the theatre, “premium seats” I think should be given an unencumbered path door to street, with private bathroom (full shower, towels and gels provided) en-route. If raining, hair stylist on standby (not so much for me, but a nice service for any soggy monkeyette, I think).

Fully equipped “dry spare outfits” room providing a change of clothes while wet ones are laundered and pressed to return afterwards.

Nobody trying to climb over me to reach the next seat thus placing their backside in my eye-line… unless it is of “Pippa Middleton” standard. Or otherwise on the books of Storm Models. In fact, should the fee actually include this as a service? Answers on a G-string, please.

While the curtain is up, nobody’s head in the way. Or talking.  Or eating. Or rustling newspapers. Or kicking my seat. Or stealing my arm rest. Or disturbing me in any other way I can think of either now or at any future date.

Light buffet at half time, goes without saying. Chocolate playing a key role in the menu – Heston Blumental invited to create zero calorie recipes of course.

Interesting and knowledgeable folk provided on demand to chat to about the show, if required. Shared interest in the menu acceptable – I eat too many bars anyway.

“Replay” button on the arm of the seat. One push “bookmarks” my favourite bits, so that at the end of the show, the cast can rewind and do them again.

Large bag of souvenir goods from the show. Programme and Souvenir brochure, obviously. Signed CD and DVD of the performance I actually saw. Huge quantity of sweatshirts, T-Shirts, mugs, pens, mouse-mats, key-rings etc, as I use these for charity fundraising. All shipped to the address of my choosing at a time suitable to me.

Luxury limousine home.

Thank you letter afterwards, for attending the show, signed personally by the producer.

Wishful thinking, yes, but frankly so is thinking you are getting £150 out of me for any less…

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