Here's the premise of the show: An aging bachelor tracks down the six children of his six ex-girlfriends and announces to each of them that he is their real father. Second-hand jokes don't translate well, especially out of context, so I won't try. However, the dialogue is sharp and Smith plays his role with such candor that the woman behind me urgently whispered, "Is this real?" and "I'm not sure we should be laughing at this" throughout the performance.
All My Children closes this weekend, and every show thus far has sold out, so I suggest you get your tickets now. Grab a date. Cap the night with ice cream, a blow job, some scratch lotto tickets, whatever. You'd be hard pressed to find a more enjoyable way to spend an evening. Seriously.