The Show That Almost Wasn't

On Tuesday night, after the horrible long day I'd had with the interview that I thought was lost and the ensuing change to our travel plans, when I got home from the writing center that afternoon, I was ready to crash and not move (preferably for at least two days, although I knew that wasn't a reality). I was starting to feel the stress of the interview growing inside me. I was also frantically trying to plan lessons for the substitute who will teach the last two days of my morning class (decided to let him show one of the Harry Potter movies, but I needed to write a worksheet to go along with it--gotta be educational about this, after all). So, all these things were floating around in my already exhausted little mind. Oh, I should also mention that I hadn't eaten all day. I got the phone call about the interview in the morning right before breakfast, used all the potential lunch time trying to fix the problem, and had been slammed with students in the writing center.

Michael and I had planned to go out to dinner to celebrate the interview, but when I got home and flopped on the bed in the guest room, face down in a pillow, Michael took one look at me, went and got the phone, and asked, "What do you want on your pizza?"

I mumbled something about pepperoni before burying my face in the pillow again. Half an hour later, the pizza arrived, and I emerged to the scent of bubbly cheese and spicy toppings. Michael popped in a disk of Star Trek (we finished Next Gen. and have moved on to Deep Space Nine, which I don't like quite as well, but it's still pretty good), and we sat down to eat.

We'd mostly finished our food, and the episode was reaching its end as well. The alien woman on the screen was babbling to her lover (who'd just had surgery and was waking up to find her at his bedside, when he'd thought she'd desert him), and saying that she'd always be by his side. Her voice reminded me on the voice of the Lady of the Lake from Spamalot, and I giggled and turned to Michael and whispered, "But you're not alone, Arthur. I've been with you all the time..." (or something like that).

Michael snickered, and we turned back to the show.

Then it clicked in my brain. Spamalot--tickets in October--going to Young Frankenstein this month--ohmygod! I turned to Michael again.

"It's TUESDAY!"

He looked blank.

"Don't we have tickets tonight? You know--Young Frankenstein?!"

He looked confused, then shook his head and stared at me with widening eyes.

"You're right! Oh crap! What time is the show?" he exclaimed as he raced to the office to find the tickets. "It's at 7:30!"

It was 6:30. We had an hour to get downtown, find parking, and get to our seats before the curtain rose for the opening night of Young Frankenstein.

Declaring, "No time to primp!" we dropped everything, abandoned the last couple pieces of pizza underneath the coffee table, and ran for the door. I was still in my work clothes, which while perfectly presentable for teaching, are not exactly appropriate opening night gear (the bright pink Converse really stood out in the crowd of heels). Fortunately for us, the traffic on I-5 was minimal, and we made it downtown with plenty of time to park, and with time to spare.

We got to the theater, showed out tickets, and were told, "Ah--third mezzanine--your tickets have been upgraded to the second mezzanine!"

That's right--a free upgrade in tickets! So we ended up about 20 rows closer to the stage than we'd thought we would be, for a show we nearly forgot we were going to see. We gratefully found our seats about ten minutes before the scheduled curtain-rising.

I assume everyone who reads my blog also reads Michael's, so you've already read his review of the show (and my opinions run along the same line as his), so I'm only going to say that the show is incredible and well worth the price of tickets (even if you forget you have them until the last second). We're still celebrating the miracle that is my quirky brain, which allowed us to make it to the show. I can't even begin to express how disappointed we'd have been to miss it!