Sunday, November 17, 2019

A Little Sting

The Birchmere is much more organized than the last time I was there. The club is general admission, and for shows starting at 7:30 the box office and bar open at 5. Ticket holders receive a first-come-first-served number like at a bakery or deli counter. At 6 when the doors to the venue open, people are allowed to claim their seats only when their numbers are called.

But what about the tickets? you may ask. Patrons present their electronic tickets to be scanned after surrendering their number, but before entering the hall. This system was entirely new to me, but I felt like Heidi and I were navigating it all pretty well until they called our number and I showed them my barcode. "That's one ticket," the door guy said. "Where's the other one?"

"Uh," I answered, and he briskly directed us to the side where two young men I had not noticed earlier stood.

As I fumbled with my phone, they suggested that Heidi go ahead in and get our seats. Their kindness did not make me any less flustered as I swiped and tapped my phone screen desperately trying to remember where I had retrieved that one ticket from before adding it to my wallet for convenience.

But the guy who helped me was very patient, adopting a tone I have often used myself when directing students through a necessary but way too-complicated process on their iPads. Open Safari, I don't see the tab, open a new one, go to Ticketmaster, log in, hit skip, tap my tickets, swipe over, there it is, and with a quick little beep he scanned it with his own phone and I was on my way.

But not before I gave him a high five, mostly just to slap the feeling of being old right out of myself.

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