Setting: a mom ‘n pop corner store near Janna’s place. Janna checks out the stuff on the counter while the clerk rings up her Orangina.

Janna: Is this pomegranate gum any good?
Clerk: Everything in the store is good.

R + J run into the Amtrak station, numerous heavy bags in tow. They have ten minutes to pick up previously reserved tickets, find their train, and board. R runs toward the electronic ticket booth; J stands in the real-person line. An ominous sign reading “No tickets issued five minutes before departure” is posted everywhere.

R: (Weaving madly through line-directing ribbon and other Amtrak customers.) I got to the front of the electronic ticket line, but I didn’t have the confirmation number! (Pulls out laptop; starts scrolling through email.)
J: Ack! There are a million people at the electronic booths now!
R: This line is moving pretty fast, maybe you’ll get to the front first. Remember this confirmation number: AFGT51644076HY1245.
J: Great! No problem.

R + J advance in their respective lines painfully slowly. Six minutes prior to departure, Janna reaches the front of her real-person line. She triumphantly rattles off the confirmation number, only to find out that she needs both passengers present with photo IDs. She scans the crowd for R, who is 100 yards away. As she pulls out her cell phone, he runs toward her.

R: Let’s go! Now! I got the tickets! The clock changed to 5 minutes before departure exactly one second after I hit “Print.”
J: Thank God, because I didn’t have your ID and that woman and all the other customers were glaring at me …

R + J wind through Union Station, discovering along the way that they are leaving from Track 16. Upon arriving, they it’s unclear how to enter the track.

R: You go that way (Gestures toward what appears to be a formal boarding area, which is completely empty.), and I’ll go this way (Gestures toward more dubious entrance that looks like it’s actually part of the Chicago city rail system.)
J: (Reflecting on the fact that, while Divide and Conquer was an excellent ticket-obtaining strategy, it might result in only one person boarding the train if employed here.) Ummmm. OK.

R + J run in separate directions, with approximately two minutes to spare. R discovers that, upon explaining that he is due on a train literally about to take off, his unorthodox route is easily forgiven. Janna, on the other hand, reaches a boarding area that has been roped off. She stands paralyzed behind a crowd-control ribbon as R waves frantically, gesturing for her to join him on the track.

J: (Thinks to herself.) No. No. NO. I WILL NOT GET STUCK IN CHICAGO. (Looks warily at the Amtrak employee “guarding” the entrance, then breaks through the ribbon and runs toward R.)
Amtrak Employee: (With a look of incredulity.) WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?!
J: (Still running.)I’m going to miss my train! It’s right there!
AE: Let me see your ticket!
J: I don’t have it! (Gestures toward R.) He has it! (Continues running, now followed by not one but two Amtrak employees.)

J reaches R and loses her pursuers, silently grateful that this is a train station and not an airport (Homeland Security interrogation? NOT HOT). R + J run down the track, board, and manage to find seats next to each other. The train leaves the station approximately 15 seconds later.

Act I, Scene II

After collecting several heavy bags from their hotel, R + J carefully evaluate transportation options. Upon learning that there is a bus that will take them directly to the train station, they opt for this method. They climb onto a crowded bus on the 151 line.

R: (As the bus pulls over to the first of many stops.) Yeah, this is a good idea. A taxi would be expensive, and this will take us right there.
J: This is definitely the best option.
R: (As the bus sits idle in bumper-to-bumper holiday traffic.) So. How about that Giordano’s waiter?
J: I’m really glad we had enough plates. It’s really annoying to be at a restaurant thinking, ‘This meal would be perfect, if only we had at least seven more plates.’
R: Big plates.
J: (As the bus pulls over to a stop approximately 100 yards from the last stop.) Yeah, who needs small plates? They’re just a conspiracy on the part of dinnerware manufacturers to get us to buy more stuff.

The bus inches forward. R + J nervously monitor the time. A basic analysis of time spent traveling vs. time allotted leaves them very, very nervous.

R: I’m a little worried.
J: I’m worried too. No. I mean, that’s bad luck. I’m not nervous! Not at all! EverythingisgoingtobefineOKfineOK. Yes. Fine.

The bus continues to alternate between picking up/dropping off large amounts of people and sitting in traffic.

J: WHY ARE THERE SO MANY PEOPLE!?!
R: This is a major shopping district, and it’s 2 days before Christmas.
J: WHY DIDN’T THEY SHOP EARLIER? DON’T THEY PLAN AHEAD?
R: We don’t have any presents, either. We didn’t plan ahead.
J: STOP SAYING THINGS THAT MAKE SENSE.

Time slips away more and rapidly, as R + J become increasingly worried. R alternately monitors Amtrak’s projected departure time and Google’s map of the bus route. Finally, the bus stops at Union Station. R + J dash out and run toward the ticket counter.

To be continued …

Setting: Chicago. R + J are at Giordano’s, a popular local pizza chain. They have almost three hours to eat lunch, gather luggage from a hotel a few blocks away, travel one mile to the Amtrak station, pick up tickets, and get on a train.

Waiter: Are you ready to order?
R: I’ll have personal pizza X.
J: I’ll have pasta Y, and we’ll have Appetizer Z.
W: Soup or salad with the pasta?
J: Salad.

Approximately 47 years pass, while R + J try to remember what people do in restaurants, aside from talk (since, after all, that can be done anywhere). Tap dance? Look up random subjects on iPhones? It certainly can’t involve eating food, though the chosen activity of the customers at other tables challenges this hypothesis. Finally, W places four dinner-sized plates on the table, then returns.

W: Here’s the appetizer. (Makes a rapid exit.)
J: (To R.) Please. Have a large plate.
R: Thanks! I’m so glad we don’t have appetizer-sized plates. They would take up so little room on the table.
J: Yeah, that waiter is really on top of our spatial needs.

Ten minutes pass.

W: (Bearing an entree and a side salad, each complete with its own plate.) Here you go. (Disappears with an almost audible whoosh.)
J: I vaguely remember restaurant etiquette dictating that salad should be presented before all of the entrees are served.
R: I don’t really remember. I lost so many brain cells after that earlier period of starvation that I’m lost on that subject.
J: (A few minutes later.) Hmm, this plastic cup of salad dressing is leaking a bit.
R: You could put it on one of the extraneous dinner plates.
J: Hey, good idea. (Places tiny cup of dressing on enormous dinner plate.)

Ten minutes pass.

J: (To waiter.) Excuse me. How long do you think the pasta will take? We have a train to catch.
W: They’re working on it.

Ten minutes pass.

W: (Presenting the entree, complete with its own plate). Here’s the pasta.
J: Fabulous!

J eats her pasta. R checks the time.

R: It’s 3:20! Our train leaves in 45 minutes!
J: (After a quick mental calculation determining that this may not be enough time to traipse through holiday shoppers, pick up bags, and get through holiday traffic en route to the station, frantically waves to the waiter.)WE NEED OUR CHECK RIGHT NOW PLEEEEASE!!!

R + J pay the bill and dash out of Giordano’s.

To be continued …

Moviegoing Companion: I’ll have a glass of the Such and Such.
Bar Employee: Um, is that a red wine?
MC: Yes.
BE: Yeah, I don’t think we have any more of that. (Examines stock.) Nope, sorry. We have Wine X Not On Menu or Wine Y Not On Menu left.
MC: I’ll take the Wine X, then.

Bar Employee searches for a corkscrew for several minutes, then gouges a hole in the cork, rendering the bottle undrinkable.

MC: Could I put in an order for a cheese plate while you’re working on that?
BE: You’ll have to ask the waiter if you want food.
Janna: I’ll take care of it.

Janna approaches the waiter, who is taking an order from a group of five clearly tipsy moviegoers. She politely stands aside.

Tipsy Woman: Yeah, I’ll have a Beer X.
Waiter: Um, I’m not sure we have any left. Let me check. (Rushes to the bar, then back.) Ok, yeah, we’ve got a couple.
Tipsy Woman 2: I’ll have the Wine Z.
W: I’ll have to check on that. (Rushes to the bar, then back.) No, we’re out. We have Wine X Not On Menu or Wine Y Not On Menu.
TW 2: Ok, then Wine X.
Tipsy Woman 3: Me too! Two glasses of Wine X.
Tipsy Guy: I’ll have a Beer Y.
W: Let me see what we’ve got. (Rushes to the bar, then back.) We’ve got about half a dozen, so you’re good.
Tipsy Woman 4: I’ll have one, too. Actually, I’ll have two. (Deliberately; slurring her words.) No. I’ll have … five.
W: Yeah. Um, OK.

Janna: (To waiter.) When you have a chance, could I order the cheese plate?
W: Yes, of course. Thank you so much for being so patient, I really appreciate it!
J: No problem. How long do you think it will take?
W: (Confidently.) Four minutes.
J: Fantastic, the movie starts in five.

MC rejoins J, hard-won glass of wine in hand. Several minutes go by. The cheese plate does not arrive. The Tipsy Moviegoers walk by.

Tipsy Woman 4: OMG I swear to God seriously guys, Britney is pregnant. She’s like staying with her little sister in like Louisiana and like I swear to God it’s true. (Stares intently at Tipsy Woman 2.) I mean, seriously. (Stares intently at Janna.) Like, really. It’s true.
J: (Thinks to herself.) Please don’t spill any of your 47 units of alcohol on me.
MC: (Aside, to Janna.) I think this is a place for San Francisco people who are really from LA.

Ten minutes later.

Waiter: (Hands over the cheese plate, which is better described as a “cheese cardboard box.”) Thank you so much for waiting. I’m really, really sorry it took so long.
J and MC: No problem! Thanks!

J and MC dash into the movie, which started fifteen minutes earlier. The lost time equals $2 per person at this theatre, which charges $10.50 plus a mysterious $1.50 “convenience fee” for each ticket.

Narrator: The upside? The employees were friendly and had excellent intentions, and the last five-sixths of the movie were great. However, good service and a film that can be seen elsewhere do not justify high-priced chaos. Get your indie flicks here instead.

On September 25th I bought three tickets, for $310 in total, to the Cyrano De Bergerac limited engagement performance that was supposed to play today. It seems today is the day that a strike will begin. I also made reservations for three to have dinner at Ben Benson’s after the play. We have been looking forward to this day for almost two months. Needless to say I am disappointed. If the play is cancelled I will also cancel my reservations at Ben Benson’s and not drive and park in the city. This day was to cost me about $650. Hopefully I can get a refund on my tickets. I work hard for my money and do not spend it frivolously. I have not been to a play in over 5 years. Thank you strikers for making my life not as nice as it would have been.

Contrast this to a conversation between a head stagehand and a Broadway exec during contract negotiations, courtesy The Humble Nailbanger:

S: Let me ask you a question. What do you do on a Sunday morning? Do you sleep in a little bit?
E: Yeah, I might get an hour or so extra.
S: Sleep in, have a little breakfast with the kids?
E: Sure, eat with my children, hang out with them, you know. Spend time.
S: And then what? Mow the lawn, have a couple drinks?
E: Maybe. Get in a few rounds of golf. You know, relax.
S: You spend your Sunday just hanging out, relaxing, playing a little bit? Seeing your family?
E: Yeah, why?
S: Well, you know what I do with my Sundays? I get up at 5am, kiss my sleeping kids goodbye, and I come in here and run your fucking theatre. And you want to pay me less now?

I’m sure it’s disappointing to be a Broadway ticketholder right now. It’s never fun to get a new installment of that lesson that we all learn as toddlers, i.e. You Can’t Always Get What You Want. However, I seem to recall the next line stating that Sometimes You Get What You Need. To honor this theory, I pose a question that most of the press sidesteps while covering this story. Which of the following is a basic human right?

1) The right to attend a Broadway performance.
2) The right to just and favourable remuneration ensuring for [one]self and [one's] family an existence worthy of human dignity.

If you chose option 1, you will be “rewarded” by a life in which you are required to sing and dance your every thought. If you chose option 2, you win the I Am a Grownup Who Realizes That Instant Gratification Is Not Always Reasonable award. Yay!

Yes, it sucks to plan a weekend and have some unexpected event shake things up. However, it sucks more to plan a life and then find that you can’t pay your mortgage, or that you have to dip into your kid’s college fund to pay the bills. However, in either case, another of those grownup lessons dictates that a change of plans simply means that it’s time to get creative. Theatregoers can take their screaming kids to FAO Schwartz, or move the anniversary celebration to Central Park for a carriage ride. Those in the latter situation can organize and collectively bargain for their rights.

That’s what the NYC stagehands are doing – fighting for a decent living. If you have Broadway tickets during the strike, you can do the following:

1) Collect your refund.
2) Have a conversation with one of the picketers. You’ll get some clarity on the situation, and maybe even a local’s recommendation on what to do with your extra time.
3) Contrary to this article’s advice, don’t compensate by going to a show with non-union stagehands.
4) Grab a picket sign, or write a blog post, or a letter to the editor.
5) Buy pizza for the picketers.

Most importantly, remember this: a strike is a big deal. No one wakes up one morning thinking, heyyyy! You know what sounds fun? Organizing a majority of my fellow union members to vote to walk out on our jobs and march around in a circle holding picket signs for who knows how long in a New York November for whatever the strike fund can pay us (read: not nearly as much as the too-low wages the employer pays) for no particular reason.

Wake up, people: A STRIKE IS THE LAST RESORT. It’s not designed for you personally in an effort to make your life “not as nice.”

“Hey man, do me a favor and toss that bottle in the bin over there when you’re done.”

Half full: I live in a city that doesn’t expect the homeless to be invisible.

Half-empty: I live in a city where this is so commonplace that alcoholism and psychosis are lower priorities than recycling.

‘”Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late!”‘

- Realizing that climbing those stairs in heels might be hard on one’s knees
+ Using the existential experience as inspiration to post to one’s neglected blog

Female Teller: (to Janna) Just swipe your card here …

Guy A: (loudly, to Guy B) So I think I’m gonna go over to [unnamed town across the Bay] this weekend.
Guy B: (equally loudly, in response) Oh, yeah. The girls over there are real slutty.
Guy A: Yeah, seriously. I always head over there when I’m looking for a good time.

Female Teller: (to Janna) Ok, here’s your receipt. Have a great day.
Janna: (in response) Um, yeah. You too. Maybe your day would actually go better if you locked the Misogynist Losers in the vault. Is it airtight?

Photo courtesy digiTofu

Setting: December 2006, John F. Kennedy International Airport. Janna takes out her trusty PowerBook to see whether she can get a free wireless signal (ha!). An upper middle class man and his teenage son walk by.

Son: Hey, look, she’s got the Apple. Do you like the Apple?
Janna: Sure, it’s great. I love this computer.
Dad: What’s Apple? I’ve never heard of it.
Son: It’s this awesome new company …