“I'm
sorry sir, but we're sold out of general admission tickets,” the ticket agent
intoned nasally.
Joe’s
heart slowed down so much he thought it was going to stop beating right there
in front of the ticket agent’s gilded cage.
Sold out? No, there must be some
mistake. With the color drained from his
face, Joe stared blankly at the ticket agent while she blathered
on about how popular the concert had become since being announced on some
national syndicate television show.
After a while he realized the woman had said something important, and he
stopped her mid-blather, leaned in toward the ticket window and asked
breathlessly, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
“I
said the only tickets we have left are for the VIP balcony area.”
Exhaling
loudly with relief, Joe replied with a grin, “I'll take one!”
Beaming with happiness, he quickly slid his credit card under the gilded
bars toward the ticket agent before she could change her mind. Pacing nervously back and forth, Joe was
jittery with the same adrenaline that only moments ago had threatened to stop
his heart completely.
With
impeccable efficiency and slight amusement at Joe's reaction, the ticket agent
swiped his card, stared at the machine, then looked at Joe and said, “I'm sorry
sir, your credit card has been declined.”
“WHAT?”
Joe shouted before he could stop himself. Gaping wildly at the ticket agent, his
mind whirled with hysteria and the room started to spin. Trying to calm down, he took a deep breath,
let it out shakily, and said in a much quieter voice, “There must be some
mistake. That card has no limits – it
can't be declined.”
“I'm
very sorry sir, but this says that your card has been declined and I am to keep
the card. Do you have any alternative
forms of payment this evening?”
Joe's
jaw dropped and his mind raced. What was
happening to him tonight? First that
kooky altercation out on the street, then the lost ticket, and now his credit
card wasn't working. Was this really the
downtown theater or had he just stepped into the twilight zone? Shaking his head in disbelief, he reached for
his wallet, peered up at the ticket agent and asked, “Will cash be acceptable?”
“Certainly,
sir,” the ticket agent replied, her nasal tone ebbing ever so slightly. “That will be $50.00.”
Joe
just about choked. Fifty dollars for a
kids' recital? Shoving the money at the
ticket agent, Joe thought that this was highway robbery and
he had a good mind to speak to the director of the Young Players Guild about
it. He certainly hadn’t paid all those membership
dues for the past seven years to be fleeced at the ticket booth on the night of
his son's debut!
Almost
as if she could read his thoughts, the ticket agent smiled and handed him his
ticket. “Here you are sir, thank you so
much for your patronage and I hope you enjoy the show!”
Muttering
about how he could only enjoy the show once he actually gained admission to it,
Joe turned away from the ticket booth and almost ran into Reynaldo, who had
appeared in front of him out of nowhere.
“Where did you come from?” Joe asked curiously, looking around for a
door nearby. Almost as soon as he said
it, he felt the ticket in his hand and said quickly, “Never mind. I need to get
to my seat. Can you help me please? My
son is going to be performing any minute!”
“Of
course sir,” Reynaldo replied confidently, checking the ticket in Joe's
hand. “This way, please.” Steering Joe over towards the VIP staircase,
Reynaldo unhooked the golden clasp of the dark red velvet rope that hung across
the bottom step and ushered Joe through the opening. Clicking the rope shut again behind them,
Reynaldo turned and said, “This way, sir, I'll take you to your seat
straightaway.”
True
to his word, Reynaldo scurried away toward Joe's newly purchased seat and Joe
hastened to keep up with him. Taking the
stairs two at a time, he finally got close enough to Reynaldo to ask him to
please slow down. But Reynaldo paused
only for a moment before resuming his quick pace. Joe did his best to keep up, regretting his failure
to utilize the expensive gym membership his wife had gotten him for Christmas. He reached the top of the stairs just in time
to see Reynaldo pull down on one of the antique lamps hanging on the wall. As he did so, a secret door creaked open and
Reynaldo motioned for Joe to follow him.
