3…2…1 GO!

My heart is racing, everyone is watching. I run across the gym towards the person screaming really helpful advice…GO FASTER. I arrive, slap their hand, retreat to the back of the line…and wait for the next round of humiliation. Races, dodgeball, volleyball, oh my gosh, not my strength. When you are 9 you have not yet learned that you don’t need to be good at everything.

One competitive “sport” I am good at…getting tickets to events. I am a Broadway girl, I watch what is coming, read reviews, and like to think I know when to buy. Actually that is not true. I had no desire to watch a musical history lesson, Alexander who…sigh…I learned the hard way on that one.

Because of my emotional investment in live theater…I cherish the ability to see favorite shows more than once. My friend took me to HAIR for my birthday, two shorties, last row of the orchestra, happily sitting on the back of our seats. Not missing a beat, on the train ride home, I scoured for the perfect tickets for my crew. First row aisle for two, and a bit further back for any who might be embarrassed by the nudity…divide and conquer. Our daughter, in her flower power shirt and ridiculously long pigtails, interacted with the cast throughout the show…doing what she does best, celebrating life.

In 2001, my sister-in-law told us to see the movie Hedwig and the Angry Inch, “the little boy dancing on the bed IS Jacob”. When we finally got to view the rental, we laughed until we cried. At that time in our lives, post bath time was show time…Jacob singing King of the Road or performing some other completely over the top musical number. Feetsie pjs, thick lisp, heart felt belting, the bed his stage…a dramatic finale…spin, bounce, and collapse.

When I found out Neil Patrick Harris was going to star in Hedwig on Broadway I became obsessed. Our kids were grown, they knew the story and music well…we were going. Rumor was that tickets for the NPH run would be gone before noon. Sale day arrived, alarms set, credit cards ready…it was a living hell. I watched in horror as the theater filled up day after day. In need (want) of specific seats, I decided to once again, to divide and conquer…which meant two different transactions. I could feel the pulse behind my eyes…wait, what smells so bad…oh my gosh, it’s me. Focus woman, GO FASTER! Scroll, enter, send…now repeat for ticket purchase number two. I got them, I did it. The joy, the relief, the pride.

Pride will always come back to bite you in the ass. When sharing my epic adventure at dinner…to the completely unemotional and unimpressed members of my family…they asked the logical question, when are we going. I took out the tickets and realized that in the stressful flurry…I had purchased tickets for two different days. So much for a family experience. So much for acing it. So much for pride. So much for anyone noticing the feat I accomplished, which was a feat…even with the little bump in the plans.

Yesterday I once again experienced the panic of online ticket purchases. Vaccines became available for teachers, aides in schools, and those over 75…three of my people fit those descriptions. I researched, scoured social media, and had a buddy to share info with…I was ready. Very late the night before appointments were to go live, I noticed that people were already getting appointments. I created accounts for my people and filled in questionnaires…scroll, enter, send…oh my gosh Katharine, GO FASTER, this time it actually matters.

Three appointments scored in the South Bronx…not perfect, but what is? Early the next morning we found out there were appointments closer to home…so we redid it all including cancelling the South Bronx. Next, sending the information to friends and family…never be greedy with information, always take care of your peeps.

Exhausted after staying up way past my bedtime for vaccine grab round one, and waking up extra early for the redo…I was fried. I am not sure tickets to any Broadway show will ever be worth experiencing that stress again. The icing on the day-o-stress cake…after witnessed people panicking at the lack of available appointments…my Olivia called me “Mom, I just want to say thank you. You always look out for us and do what ever you can to get us what we need. Thanks for that.”

Swoon…she noticed.

Published by Kat

A mom, a wife, a daughter, a friend, a graphic designer. I am flawed... but I try.

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