From the second to last row of the theatre.
Bob: Look at that piano! That's one hell of a big piano for such a small stage.
Me: I know, and they've got a trumpet, and a clarinet, and an oboe. Ooh, and a piccolo! How cute!
*orchestra starts to warm up*
Bob: I was in the band in school, did I ever tell you that?
Me: Really? Me too! What did you play?
Bob: The click-clack.
Me: The ... huh?
Bob: You know, the click-clack! That hollow bit of wood on a stick that you hit and it went click, clack, click, clack.
Me: I see ... it wouldn't have happened to be the percussion band, would it?
Bob: Yeah, how'd you know? I was pretty good too, I even worked out how to do the click, clack, clickclick, clack.
Bob: Shut up! I was brilliant!
Me: I'm sure you were. Best click-clack player around.
Bob: Damned straight! So, what did you play?
Me: (blandly) Second clarinet.
Bob: Oh, well don't feel too bad. Not everyone can play the click-clack.
Me: I'll try not to let it make me bitter...
NB. The name Bob was randomly selected as a generic substitute for all my cohorts. I'd say to protect the innocent, but then I'd spend the next twenty minutes laughing uproariously over the idea of anyone I associate with being innocent.