Apart from that one time last year I don't go to the opera (it's ridiculously expensive and it's not like my theatre habit isn't enough as it is) but apparently my subconscious is making up for it, although it doesn't take me any further than the ticket desk. I was picking up tickets for Faust I'm sure the reason that particular opera came to mind was the massive ad for Terry Gilliam's production at the back of this week's Time Out. There was a rather snooty old lady behind the desk who seemed to think I was beneath the venue's dignity (I probably wasn't dressed up enough for her liking.) As well as my credit card I'd taken a note out of my wallet to buy a programme, and as I passed the credit card over the desk the note accidentally dropped onto it as well, which scandalised the old lady. I don't know what she thought I was doing, (bribing her?) but she told me they didn't do that sort of thing in this theatre before giving me my tickets. Which instead of normal printout tickets were A5 sized glossy sheets, with a picture of the star in character on them, a hot man with his shirt off. The box office lady got sniffy again and said "I know, what a terrible picture to put on a ticket" and I saw from the listing that as well as the venue being the Coliseum, the hunky star was also called Coliseum. I'd like to say my brain is so dedicated to the creation of bad puns even when it's on standby that his name was actually Colin Seum, but it wasn't, it was just Coliseum. But I did think of the bad pun the split second I woke up, if that helps.