It sucks to be you.

If you don't see Avenue Q, that is.

Aside from the old ladies passing around cookies during the second act, the show was hilarious. The guy at the box office told me the cheap seats on the side balcony were sold; maybe it's the 20/20 vision, but I could see just fine from the center balcony.

It was refreshing to see a small cast and a set that actually fit the dimensions of the space, after spending a summer with sets that nearly crushed the electrics and a cast the size of a small army. Plus, there's nothing I enjoy more than the brisk San Francisco fog to quicken my way to BART, as opposed to the dry Utah heat to quicken my mile walk.

As one might expect for SF, there is a George W. Bush crack that incited self-righteous hoots and applause from the Prius-driving crowd, but being in college never seems as cool as when puppets are missing the dorms.

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