The second balcony is packed. The friendly, familiar usher who scowls all the time without meaning it, flatfoots up and down the stairs trying to find seats for the sweethearts. Through his tireless manipulation, separated couples are reunited, and his pride is pardonable. The crowd has come early, for it is amateur night. The Apollo Theater is full to overflowing.
Amateur night is an institution.
It is eleven now. The house lights go up. The audience is restless and expectant. . . . The emcee comes out of the wings. The audience knows him.