Spamalot!!!

"I have tickets available for Monday evening. Interested?" The ticket teller peered at us through the window. I glanced at Becky and shrugged.

The original plan was to see a musical on Sunday, the night we got into London. What better way to herald our coming into one of the greatest cities in the world than by taking in a grand, production-number-laden musical? We couldn't think of a better way so we headed to Lesicester Square to secure tickets to one of the plays. Only we couldn't get tickets--Sunday night is a dark curtain night for London theater. Meaning our original plan was thwarted.

We were surrounded by ticketing agencies. The original plan was to buy tickets from TKTS but they only sold tickets the day of a show. However we weren't sure we'd be able to get back to get tickets on Monday afternoon. The ticketing booths all around us, however--they had tickets available to shows into the week. I was leary, though. I'd heard they were of ill reputation and that you could end up being bounced from the theater because the tickets might not be real.

Becky rationalized the whole thing. "This one looks reputable. It's not like it's a cardboard box in an alley--there's lots of posters. And look! The guy selling the tickets has a computer and it's in a building. It can't be a bad place, right?" Begrudgingly, I let her lead me into the ticket place. We asked for tickets for Monday night.

"I have great seats for Spamalot." Score! That was one of the plays we wanted to see! A play about Britains! In Britain! By Monty Python Yes! I was still a little leary of the whole operation., though.

"These are real tickets, right? We're not going to get kicked out of the theater after we've forked over money? These ARE real tickets, not fake thingys?" Becky looked at me like I was an idiot. I didn't care! I wasn't about to hand over hard-earned money if I wasn't going to get to see a show.

We were assured they were real and we left the box office, tickets safely secured in Becky's purse. (She's the more responsible one. If they were in my purse, they'd have likely fallen out and some random hobo would end up seeing the show.) I was still hesitant about our purchase. I'd read so much about shady ticket brokers--we were going to be escorted from the theater! I could just tell! Still, it wasn't like there was anything I could do about it, the tickets were bought. I rationalized that if anything, this would make a good story for the friends back home. Though I really just wanted to see the play.

On Monday, we found our way to the theater after a couple of wrong turns and an accidental discovery of Chinatown, which left me craving rangoons and egg drop soup. Cravings aside, I was still nervous as we handed the ticket-taker our tickets. He looked at them and then at us and smiled. "We closed the second balcony for this evening's performance. We'll have to relocate you."

Relocate us, my ass. We were about to be punished! Punished for buying tickets from an unauthorized source! They were looking for a big, burly bouncer weren't they?!?

I was looking for a man the size of a gorilla when we were hurried inside the theater towards another worker. He took our tickets and talked into his walkie talkie. We were SO busted. I gritted my teeth as he opened his mouth to speak to us, expecting to hear some nasty words.

"Since the balcony is closed, we've found you some great seats in the stalls. Eighth row. Towards the center."

Wait...what? Did we just get upgraded? From crappy balcony seats to front and center seats? Really? No mean, nasty lecture? Instead amazing seats? As the nice man escorted us to our new seats I got giddy. Yes! Nice seats! For us! Wheeee! Oh my gosh I bet I could see them spit or drool I was so close!

Becky and I squealed over our good fortune until we were hushed by the dimming lights and tuning up of the orchestra. Then we were transported to the 10th century and the plight of King Arthur's plight of finding the Holy Grail, Monty Python-style.

While I was expecting to laugh, I didn't think I would leave the theater with my sides aching. But they did and my throat hurting the laughing, too. It was that funny. I have a feeling the songs will be stuck in my head for days on end. It was clever, it was creative, it had dazzling production numbers, great costumes and well-developed characters. And the acting! Oh. My. God. The woman who played The Lady of the Lake had the most sultry, smoky, incredible voice I have ever heard live. It sent shivers rocketing up and down my spine. Every actor was incredible. It's true--the West End has acting that can easily take on Broadway's Best.

It was an amazing play and a great end to this parable: take a chance, even if you're unsure what the end result may be. You never know, sometimes you'll get rewarded in great ways. Like, eighth row center seats to an amazing musical.