A Girl Like That

Once again I rushed to Times Square today to enter the West Side Story ticket lottery. As I ran up the stairs of the 50^th Street subway stop, I noticed a young couple pressed together along the wall of the stair landing.

They appeared to be about 16-18 years old. He was African-American. The girl had cafe au lait colored skin and brown eyes. She could have been Latino, African-American, or Middle Eastern. It was difficult to gauge her ethnicity.

Seeing amorous teenage couples doesn’t really bother me. It is a fact of life that adolescent kids fool around and many of them have sex.

However, the young woman wore a veil over her hair. It surprised me to see a young Muslim girl engaging in a public display of affection. She was modest enough to cover her hair, yet she would allow herself to be kissed and pawed by her boyfriend in front of hundreds of strangers.

There was a Muslim woman in my graduate program cohort. Through that acquaintance, I know enough about Islam to know that this kind of behavior is forbidden. From what I have read about practices in other parts of the world, even if this girl were married she could be jailed or worse for acting this way in public. If her parents or brothers saw her, most likely she would be severely punished.

When I didn’t win the ticket lottery a half hour later, I returned to the same subway stairway. The couple had not moved, and the girl’s veil was still in place. They could be the Maria and Tony of 21^st century New York City.

Somewhere, Sometime

The Broadway revival of West Side Story is the current sensation in New York. A friend kindly offered to buy me a ticket to the show if I entered us in the ticket lottery and we won.

Broadway ticket prices are out of control. Several years ago, a $125 prime orchestra ticket was considered outrageous. Now those tickets are $325. When Broadway theaters champion weak productions (i.e. Legally Blonde, Young Frankenstein) and charge these prices, it is clear why they are in financial peril.

Unless a show is a blockbuster hit, a high percentage of seats will be empty for performances. From what I understand, generally about a third of the seats for regular Broadway shows are unsold. The theaters don’t want empty seats because it makes the production look like a failure. So, empty seats are sold through a variety of cheaper venues, such as student rush tickets, TKTS, or a seat-filling agency (i.e. Play by Play).

Through my friend’s generosity, I recently secured prime orchestra seats (a $325 value according to the prices listed by the box office) for Impressionism through student rush for $26.50. Although the actors (Jeremy Irons, Joan Allen, Andre De Shields) are top notch, the play is not. I doubt it will have a long run or sell many seats at $325, $125, or $60.

Although I am not a financial wiz, I suspect that with its star power cast this weak play would have enough appeal to fill seats at $50 and $25. Ironically, the greed of the theater owners seems to be an obstacle to making money on the many poor productions they run.

However, the buzz for West Side Story is very good and anyone left in New York who can still afford tickets is clamoring for them. The theater is selling off empty seats each night and generating good PR by holding a lottery for unsold tickets outside of the theater at 6pm. These reduced tickets sell for $60 each (cash only).

Shortly before 6, I arrived at the theater. It was mobbed. The crowd filled up the already crowded street in Times Square. I elbowed my way into the lobby where a man was standing beside a small table. I filled out an entry form and he placed it in a bag.

At 6pm, he stood at the door of the theater and called out the names of the lucky people who won tickets. Alas, my name was not called.

Fair and Faith

Against my better judgement, I attended a Monster.com / New York Times job fair in the Times Square area today. This was my first experience at a job fair. Most likely it will be my last because it appears that these events are used to fill more junior positions than I am seeking.

At least now I know what job fairs are like.

I waited in a line for 2 hours to get in. It was about 30 degrees F outside. Fortunately, about 2/3 of the line was snaking around the inside of the Marriott Marquis.

Several television cameras were there to take footage of the throngs of jobless people. I suppose they wanted to capture a visual to punctuate reporting on the current economic situation. However, it was humiliating to be recorded as one of the pitiful people seeking work in a brutal job market.

The fellow waiting behind me struck up a conversation with a photographer who was there on assignment with the New York Times. They had a long conversation that I couldn't help overhearing. At the close, they asked that I take a photograph of the two of them. The photographer confidently handed to me his massive camera and showed me which button to press.

I have a dear friend who is a professional photographer, and know that her camera is her baby. This equipment often costs more than car and is easily broken. Not only is it expensive, their livelihood is dependent on this machine. As I took the camera from the photographer's outstretched hand I asked him whether he was certain he wanted me to use it. He was.

It is somewhat pathetic, but it made me feel good that this stranger trusted me to use his precious camera. In a situation where I was feeling a profound loss of faith in myself, he had faith in me.

So, today I snapped a photograph of a New York Times photographer and an out-of-work attorney in line at the Monster Job Fair using the photographer's top-of-the-line camera.

Cig and Snip Break

Tonight I noticed something odd as I walked by two young, uniformed ushers outside of the Shubert Theater in Times Square. One was seated on a ledge and the other was standing behind rather than facing her friend. They were taking a cigarette break.

It seemed a strange arrangement for a conversation.

As I passed, the flash of neon paper scissor handles caught my attention. The standing usher was trimming her friend's hair.