What would you wait for? What would you sweat for? What would you pay for? What would you cling to hope for, enduring a 6 hour line followed by a deluge?! For me, tonight, it was Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice...
Imagine the feeling of a bathroom after you've taken a steaming hot shower. The air is thick, moist, hot and we-just-sit-in-it! Arriving in pieces to the stand-by line outside the Delacorte Theater in Central Park, we sit on a hope and a prayer (and gravel) waiting for the possibility of snagging a ticket to one of the final performances of the summer's Shakespeare in Central Park.
In total we are seven, probably sitting a good 50 people from the front of the line. Now this line will only receive tickets after the folks with vouchers (some of whom camped out over night) get their tickets, who won't receive tickets until extra tickets are distributed by the box office. Basically, our chances are slim but we're optimistic people. We are actors after all, we live on the possibility of 'what if'! Anyway, knowing all this a pair of fellows walk by offering to sell tickets to the show. Now, you should know that the homeless folks in NYC are quite clever. Some camp out in the line over night, cause why not, and then receive tickets in the morning. Later in the day they sell them to people desperate to see the show and viola! make a little money! Genius! My friend and I perk up and inquire to the amount. $10 he says! After close inspection of the tickets (and assuming, based on appearance, that these guys wouldn't have the means to create fake tickets and then only sell them for ten bucks) we decided to purchase the 4 tickets they held. The seats were in the back row, so we opted to stay in the line to see if we could do better. Never satisfied!
The day continued to drag on but with enough snacks, good company and funny stories the day ended up flying by. Eventually we had purchased enough tickets for the group to be guaranteed a seat. Some were still skeptical about the validity of the tickets but once it became evident that we weren't going to get a ticket in the stand-by line and they were making last calls for anyone with a ticket, we jumped out of line and ran to our seats!
Now I should preface this next section by telling you that the forecast for the evening was heavy/severe thunderstorms with a chance of hail and a tornado watch! Am I back in Texas?! As we sit there is a slight breeze in the air but I am praying that the weather will hold. The play begins and Pacino is fabulous! We make it to the scene where Shylock is approached by Bassanio and Antonio for infamous loan (that whole pound of flesh bit) and the wind has picked up considerably. A gust of wind blows several leaves on the stage and the crowd begins to stir uncomfortably in their seats. A slight spitting kind of rain descends from above but the players go on. I draw my eyes to the sky and my heart drops at the sight of a wall cloud dividing the heavens and moving across to cover us. Then the rain comes... and comes... heavier... and heavier! The players abandon the stage, which is good cause eventually the wind knocks over the sets! The crew scrambles to cover the props as the audiences scrambles to take shelter. Those of us buried in the middle of our row remain stagnant huddling under a pitiful umbrella I may have borrowed from work. With every umbrella-breaking gust of wind, we'd all scream and cheer in defiance!! We WILL stay in our seats and see this show that we waited all afternoon for! One of the most amazing acts of nature I've encountered that closely!
For 35 minutes I bounced back-and-forth between hope and despair, never truly believing the performance would be canceled (little did I know the actors were down below taking off their costumes). The rain slowed bringing forth cries of victory, and as it stopped many of us stood proudly as though we had endured a great battle! Then we swiftly moved down to abandoned seats much closer! As the crew reset the stage, the weaker, more timid theater-goers emerged from their haven under the stands all nice and dry. Honestly, the shower was welcomed after spending several hours in the sweaty heat!
"Three thousand ducats!" and as Pacino delivered the line, the audience erupted. We loved them for coming back on stage and they loved us for staying. The rest of the performance fell under the gaze of the waning moon and ended somewhere around midnight. Portia was exquisite, Pacino played Shylock brilliantly and any issue I may have quibbled over on any other night was forgiven because it was performed. I loved every moment of it because it felt like a gift!
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