Bad playhouse

I had a disappointing night last night. We went to see a performance of Hamlet, and I hated it. I tried to pretend that there were things about it I liked, because to just say it was boring sounds so ignorant. But the Elizabethan English was more impenetrable than usual for me and I could make sense of little of it. It was in contrast to a performance of Othello that I saw last year. That one was easy to understand, love: evil envy and jealousy. What was worse was that I got the tickets for free and I invited friends to attend. They were even more bored with it than I was and half kidded me on how they wouldn't be attending any more plays at the Shakespeare theater with me again. The half kidded part was funny, but the serious, I don't want to go with you to the theater anymore because you take us to such boring stuff hurt me. I've been in a funk about this all rainy day today. Maybe the vodka and tonic will bring me out of it.