You're still you

Yesterday I drove downtown to the Capitol Theatre to try my luck at the Wicked tickets drawing that takes place before each performance. You show up, put your name on an index card, put it in a cauldron (because hi, witches), and 30 minutes later they draw 10 names. If your name is called, you can buy 2 tickets for that night's performance. You pay $25 in cash for each ticket, which you then wave in the faces of scalpers while you tell them what they can go do to themselves.

I knew there would probably be a big crowd. What I forgot was that the crowd would be made up of Utahn cultural-performance-goers. So, you know, pretty much my most favorite people in the world, right up there with suicide bombers. (Motto for both groups: Let's go ruin it for everybody!)

I must send out a big thank you to Daltongirl and Lola, who waited in line with me and kept my brain inside of my ears and my claustrophobia at bay while we chatted about things like knitting and Facebook and junior high courtship rituals, which consist of girls hissing things like "Just go talk to him!" and "Ohmygosh not so LOUD, I will!!!!" at each other repeatedly. I'm sorry you two didn't get tickets.

And now for the other notes of thanks.

Thank you, families who brought every single child you own (and remember, this is Utah, so that number can get quite high) to the theatre so you could submit more names into the bucket than anyone else. That didn't suck of you at all. Never even mind the part where there's no way you planned on actually taking your five preschool- and elementary-aged children to the play. Unless, of course, you actually did, which leads us to:

Thank you, parents who fully planned to take 3, 4, 5, and 6 year olds to the performance. Because that is absolutely who the show is for, and there's no way your kids could ever bother anyone else by getting bored, or tired, or antsy, or insane between the hours of 7:30 and 10:30pm.

Thank you, dad who urged your 10-year-old daughter to gaze soulfully into your eyes while singing Defying Gravity right next to me. That was a highlight. Also, I suspect that you might be creepy.

Thank YOU, red-scarfed old lady who never once moved from her spot on the sidewalk even as theatre employees were pleading for everyone to please make room for those who needed to exit the building, like me. You're lucky I'm a gentlewoman, because you were SO very close to getting elbowed. Thanks again for ignoring the fact that an actual ticket winner was trying to make his way around you to get to the front, and for just standing there determinedly in his path. I'm sure that helped your chances.

Thank you, Wicked employees, for drawing the name of a lady who looked like she was not at all excited to have just won, and in fact possibly did not even know what the drawing was even for.

Thank you, parking garage, for charging $4 to park for one hour. That was awesome.

Much love,

Nemesis