Skip to main content

In Search of Theater Tickets

We were in search of theater tickets. That is why my friend and I had wandered from our midtown hotel to the South Street Seaport, at the southern tip of Manhattan. Considering that New York’s Theater District is in midtown, our being at the opposite end of the city may seem odd. But, we had gone to the Seaport to buy tickets. TKTS, a discount ticket retailer, had a reputation for having very long lines at its Times Square location. In my pre-travel planning, I had read that there was a second booth at the Seaport with considerably longer lines. And, so, hoping for a faster experience, my friend and I were in search of the Seaport TKTS booth.

My friend had grown up in a town just outside of New York and was quite familiar with Manhattan. She was not especially familiar with the Seaport TKTS booth, but knew its general location. We had wandered down Broadway, through the financial district, and were nearing the waterfront. We looked around the area for the familiar red TKTS logo. The booth was not where either of us expected to find it. After wandering down a few narrow streets, we stopped at a convenience store to ask for directions. This proved to be fruitless as the clerk obviously had no idea what TKTS was or why we were looking for it. We continued wandering around the southern end of Manhattan, our eyes searching for any hint of the booth.

Before long, we found ourselves back along the waterfront, retracing a route we had already taken. We approached a nearly empty deli, deciding to ask once more about the TKTS booth. If this proved as fruitless as our previous attempt, we would return to midtown, resigning ourselves to waiting in the line at the Times Square booth. My friend and I stepped inside the deli and walked up to the counter. We asked the bored-looking clerk if she knew anything about a TKTS booth in this part of the City. Without saying a word, she extended her index finger, waving it towards the window directly across from her. The window directly behind my friend and me. We turned and saw, less than one block away, the TKTS booth.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Olympic Memories

Twenty years ago this week, I - along with my family - was sitting in my house watching the Opening Ceremonies of the Summer Olympics.  I have always loved watching the Olympics, but this time was different.  This time, the Games were not on some far-away continent.  These Games were in my own hometown!  In fact, just the night before, I had been in Olympic Stadium - now Turner Field - watching the dress rehearsal for what I was watching on tv.  Now, twenty years later, some of my most vivid memories remain: The seemingly always-crowded highways of Atlanta were practically desolate, providing a seldom-seen sight. Meeting the Frenchman who wondered if I had ever heard of the book about the Civil War written by an Atlanta woman named Margaret Mitchell. The dress rehearsal crowd cheering wildly during the parade of nations for the entry of the flag from (the nation of) Georgia. Attending the women's gymnastics podium trials, watching the Magnificent 7 prepa...
Post a Comment
Read more

Playing Slots

             It is impossible to win on these machines, I thought.  Playing an airport slot machine is basically throwing away money, I was certain.  But, I had a long layover between flights and was looking for a way to pass the time.  I could see the neon glow of the Las Vegas Strip through the windows, but I did not have enough time to make that trip.  Despite my doubts, then, I sat down at a quarter machine near my gate and dropped in one dollar.  That was all that I would spend, I assured myself.  If nothing else, I would not be out much money.               I sat at the machine and, every few seconds, pressed the blinking button that sent the rolls spinning.  I would win. . . then lose. . . then win the small sum that I was playing.  When I looked and saw that I actually was ahead, I decided to q...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Centennial

          It has been almost 25 years . . .and I still remember it crystal clearly.  It was a Wednesday morning in September and I was on my way to school.  I was in the front passenger seat of my parents’ minivan while my father drove.  We lived exactly one mile from the school, so it was not a long trip.  Typically, we would use the brief drive to talk about what was happening at school that day, but not on this day.  On this particular morning, we sat in silence, listening to the radio and waiting... waiting for something to happen half a world away.           At that very moment, in Japan, a ballroom full of people was waiting, as well.  They watched as the man stepped up to the podium and began to speak.  As we arrived at the school came the moment that will live in infamy . . .in my hometown, at least.  My father stopped the car at the edge of the sch...
Post a Comment
Read more