This weekend, I saw The Music Man on Broadway. Ever heard of it??? Music? How about Man? Or perhaps, Broadway??? All three of these things are huge deals in my communities. So it should come as no shock that I was thrilled to see The Music Man on Broadway. Hugh Jackman starred! With his sweet little face and tiny butt! And Sutton Foster! Who, I am sorry to say, I know less well, but she was also great!!!
The show was sweet and fun, the costumes were great, the dancing was great, all around it was, in a word, great. BUT, the events leading up to the show were nothing short of chaos for me (of course they were; my loyal readers were expecting it!!)
It was a matinee, this show, which (for those of you not in the entertainment industry) meant it started at 3pm. I think the origin of word “matinee” comes from the Latin word for 3pm. It took approximately 30 minutes via subway to get from my apartment in Brooklyn to the show on 50th street, so I figured I’d leave at 2:15pm to play it safe. I actually originally thought I would leave at 2pm but then I decided to give myself an extra 15 minutes to wash the dishes (I’m trying to get more on top of the dishes because, as we know, they can debilitate me).
Well, I probably should have saved the dishes because by the time I got all my shit together, it was 2:20. Math-heads in the crowd will notice that I was only 5 minutes late, which isn’t that bad. However, the same math-heads will probably put 2 and 2 together (math joke for you) and realize that my updated arrival time was now 2:50: ten minutes before showtime!!! That’s basically showtime!!! You could argue that 15 minutes before showtime is also cutting it close, but to me they felt very different. It’s like how saying “60 seconds” sounds longer than “a minute.” I couldn’t tell you why but 15 minutes felt much safer than 10.
I’m not a math-head, but I also realized what my new arrival time would be and I started freaking out. I booked so fast it to the subway that by the time I got there, I was too hot for my coat. Then, the MTA, who I and thousands of New Yorkers put their faith every day in despite its notoriously untrustworthy behavior, failed me once again. THE TRAIN WAS SUPPOSED TO ARRIVE AT 2:24 AND IT ARRIVED AT 2:37! !!!!!!!!!!!!!
By that point, the sweat was pooling in my pits. I brought a book to read but I simply could not focus on anything but the time. Well, the time and of course all the anxious thoughts that were swirling in my mind: “my parents are gonna be pissed at me” “I’m gonna miss Hugh Jackman’s entrance and what if it’s a key plot point” “how dare I consider myself an early person when more often than not I find myself in these panicky, cutting-it-close situations??” “What if I miss a key plot point????”
As the train chugged along, the questions started going from ifs to whens. Another grave mistake I made in this journey was taking the Q. I love the Q and I trust the Q inherently despite knowing better. The theater however was off the 1. I could have taken the 2/3 near me, then gotten on the 1 and landed right at the theater, but again for some unknown reason, I don’t trust the 1/2/3 as much as I trust the Q, especially on the weekends. I figured the Q would be faster but I sure as hell figured was wrong. A heartbreaking lesson to learn and one that will not change my behavior in the slightest. Q til I die.
Anyway, the closest the Q could get me was 42nd street and if you’ll remember from earlier, the show was on 50th street. As we got closer to Times Square, I had a decision to make: I could either transfer at the station to the 1 and take it right to the theater or I could make my way up the 8 blocks on foot. I had been burned enough by the MTA for one day, so as the train came to a stop, I decided I would walk.
What I mean by walk is run. And what I mean by run is sprint. It was 3pm at that point and I NEEDED to get there as close to on-time as I could so that I wouldn’t miss anything big (this was my biggest concern and it really didn’t need to be, by the way. Not just because the opening number in The Music Man doesn’t establish a whole lot that you can’t pick up later, but also because I’m, like, a pretty intuitive person, as my therapist would say (brag) so it’s not like I would have been totally lost after missing the beginning, u know?!? I don’t know, I think I just don’t like to miss out on things in general. I used to be a bad napper as a baby and my mom said it was because I always wanted to be a part of the action. So I guess I haven’t changed at all since I was an infant).
If you were picturing me book it earlier, multiply that times 10 and put it in a snowy Times Square on a Sunday afternoon and that was what I looked like sprinting to the theater. I made it there in record time: 3:04pm, but by the time I got there, the doors were locked and there were no ushers or anything outside. FUCK!!!! I was frantic. I started banging on the door, hoping someone would open up for a stressed out but eager musical theater fan who just wanted to see Hugh Jackman’s tiny butt. Nothing. I texted my mom, who was already inside, “HELP. DOORS LOCKED” (or something close enough to that, I wasn’t really looking at what letters I was typing). I was this panicked until I realized that I was at the back entrance, so I was banging on the backstage door and probably giving some poor stage manager a heart attack. Menace behavior to the fullest.
I ran around to the other side where the doors were open and ushers were scanning tickets for other late-arriving heathens like me. My mom, ever my hero, met me at the door where I was panting and dripping sweat like I had just ran a marathon. The usher who checked my vaxx card seemed genuinely concerned for me. Then, I was so anxious to get into my seat and not miss a single second that I bolted past the usher who was supposed to scan my ticket, so he had to chase me down. Then again, I bolted past two other ushers who were supposed to show me where my seat was. I made three enemies in the span of 2 minutes, which, honestly, fits pretty well with the plot of The Music Man.
By the time I got to my seat, I was wheezing and coughing (four minutes of running can really get you) and the people in front of me started leaning forward timidly. Two more enemies added to the list. THEN, as my mom sat down in her seat which was two rows ahead of mine, some guy LOUDLY said “OH SIT DOWN WILL YOU!” Ok… RUDE! Like sure, it was annoying that we were standing but did it help for you to loudly shout in the middle of a live performance??? Who’s the REAL villain in this scenario? Now I had an enemy on my list, but also he had us on his. So my enemy count was up to 6.
In the end, the show was great, as previously mentioned, and I really didn’t miss much. I saw all the big numbers and the dancing, the singing, the staging all of it was so lively and fun, plus I got to see Hugh Jackman’s lil butt and it was just as cute and lil as I expected!!! I felt genuinely guilty for all the enemies whose lives I made harder/more difficult (except that last guy who I will never forgive……………) but maybe they got a funny story out of it in the same way that I did. Or at the very least, they probably got to see Hugh Jackman’s lil butt and I hope it meant as much for them as it did for me.
That’s all from me this week. If there’s anything to be learned from my tale it’s that you can never trust the MTA and I should probably do more cardio.
Here’s a picture of us from after the show! It’s not a great picture lol!
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