Swamped

You look at the nearest person. They seem to have ordered quite a few sandwiches, and are slowly making their way through the pile on their plate. No drink, though.

"I heard there's a show going on here tonight," you say calmly. "Would you know anything about it? If things calm down for me, I might be able to catch it."

"Plannin' to go home first," they say, taking another bite. "Seen a show here once and it just wasn't my thing. I only come here for the food."

How many sandwiches is that, exactly? Eight? You're having trouble counting.

"Oh? What put you off it?"

"Well, the actors were good and all, but the material was weak." They chew on this bite for a while before continuing. "They tried their damnedest to sell it, but the plot's just too dull and the characters ain't likable, or even all that funny. Then again, I guess any half-decent playwright can find a more stable job at a real theater. So maybe it's not too surprising."

Hmm. You find yourself curious about where they developed their taste in entertainment.

"Do you watch a lot of shows?"

"I did before the theater closed down. That was, what, eight years ago now? Most of the shows there were pretty solid. Acting was a little uneven, but that's to be expected when you hire a lot of first-timers like they did. The writing was a treat, though. Wish I'd paid more attention to the programs so I knew who did it, but oh well. Whoever it is has probably moved on."

You'd like to know more, but it's probably more practical to find out what you can about the show here. You find yourself wishing you'd paid more attention to the theater scene here in your youth, but it can't be helped now.

Well... now that you think about it, you did see a poster for a play that stuck in your mind for a while. And as you recall the title, you realize that it might not be entirely irrelevant to tonight's events.

It's just a hunch, but this person here might know enough to help you confirm it.