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epitome of incomprehensibility
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At first I'm not enthused about the teenagers talking in the library. This is a reading room in a university library (it looks like a cross between one of Concordia's and one of McGill's) and I'm trying to read a dusty hardcover about Victorian-era British politics. It's hard enough focusing as it is.
But then one sitting at the table across from me looks up. She says something like, "Hey, you were really good in the play!"
"Thanks," I say, even though the dream_play I remember, a musical, had me watching instead of performing. The problem near the end was that there wasn't enough room in the audience, and I ended up standing at the edge of the stage. Maybe that's why she thought I was in it.
Then my attention is directed to the aisle between tables, where a boy does a freestyle rap. It's impressive, I have to admit. When he's done, I give him the enthusiastic suggestion, "You should write a musical like Hamilton! But about [British prime minister] Benjamin Disraeli!"
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