Ten days ago, I had an unbelievable opportunity. I went to New York City with DH (first shocker — I never travel) and we attended the blockbuster musical, Hamilton! Never in a million years did I think I would ever be able to see this show.
DH had been presented with two tickets by two extremely kind and generous friends who wanted to give him a splashy evening in the big city. I think they knew very little would pry his bride off the farm except the opportunity to see this wonderful smash hit.
Once we arrived in Manhattan, DH thought we should go out to dinner.
I was too excited to eat. “Let’s just walk to the theatre,” I begged. “I can eat pretzels!”
DH and wisdom prevailed and we went to a simple chain restaurant.
“We have tickets for a show!” I informed the waitress eagerly.
DH shook his head with a smile. “What a hayseed.”
Though at my insistence we arrived at the theatre forty-five minutes early, there were already twin lines snaking down the block in each direction. We had terrific seats. By the time the curtain went up, every seat was filled.
During the fifteen-minute intermission, every woman in the audience, apparently, including me, was in a line for the ladies’ room. The line wound through the theatre in a circular pattern that doubled back, so none of us would see quite how long the wait actually was. It was exactly like a cattle chute. We inched along the corridors.
As is my wont, to keep up the group’s restive spirits, I began chatting and joking with people in the line nearby. Someone asked a question about the history behind the show — and I was soon giving a cheerful mini-lecture on Alexander Hamilton, Lafayette, Aaron Burr, and George Washington. An hour later as DH and I were leaving the theatre, a woman in the crowd touched my arm and turned me to meet her husband. “Look, honey! It’s the woman from the ladies’ room that I was telling you about!” She said kindly that she would never forget the terrific high school teacher who had taught her medieval history, and she was sure my students would similarly remember me. (Teachers: we get the job done!)
The show was exactly as fabulous as all reports said it would be. DH and I had a wonderful time.
The next day, as DH went off to an early meeting, I met my lovely niece for breakfast. I don’t get to see Susanna nearly often enough. She is smart, funny, and has so much on the ball it would be intimidating if she were not also so kind and thoughtful. (And if I did not have photographs of her clowning in a shower wearing a steamer pot lid on her head at age 12.)
All in all, it was a terrific 18 hours in the city. I’ll have to go back again — in another decade or so.