Nick Ahad: Plastic bag rustler steals the scene and spoils theatre experience

Not literally. I didn't spend the evening indulging in some psychedelic trip imagining a bag urging me on to write this.

No, this plastic carrier – a Marks and Spencer bag as it happened – was in the lap of the woman sitting behind me as I tried to enjoy the thrilling production of Death of a Salesman at the West Yorkshire Playhouse in Leeds (review on page 16).

As the second act of Miller's story began, I must confess I did the reader a disservice and stopped concentrating for a while on the action. I do, however, claim mitigating circumstances.

It's hard to concentrate when you struggle to hear Willy Loman over the rustle of a plastic carrier bag in the lap of a woman acting like an ADHD three-year-old 20 minutes after drinking a bottle of fizzy pop.

Did I also mention her squeaky leather handbag which was competing

for lap space with the carrier? I didn't? Well there

was one.

No, I don't know why she didn't just put them under her seat either. The problem is, I'm British, so simply speaking to the woman and telling her to behave was not an option. What to do?

I deployed everything in my artillery to combat this lack of consideration. I tutted. I shook my head. I even took the extreme step of clearing my throat at one point.

The rustling continued. There was nothing else for it. I had to deploy my own deterrent.

I turned around and gave the bag rustler a hard stare. That solved it. For a minute.

Then Willy started talking and the bag started rustling.

I was out of ideas. I'd tried every trick at my disposal and been unable to stop the woman fiddling with her carrier bag during the performance.

Audiences: they're a funny beast, aren't they?

As a critic, I travel the county and visit all our major theatres and you might not realise this, but audiences have their own collective personality which differs from town to town.

Sheffield: attentive. Bradford: attention deficit disorder. Hull: always up for a laugh, never scared to get involved. Leeds: fidgety but knowledgeable. Scarborough: of a certain age. York: younger.

None of this is scientific, simply observations I've made over the past decade travelling around Yorkshire watching theatre with different audiences.

I won't say which is my favourite – I do have one – but I know which is my least favourite: the one that has members in it with plastic carrier bags.