Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Box Office

"Okay, I only have enough money on me for a concession ticket".

We're at a cash-only venue and I had assumed that there would be a cashpoint in East London. It seems that assumption was incorrect. It is fair to say that me and East London are having some problems in our relationship currently. At this rate East London is going to be dumped before the week is out.

"Use my student ID" Breakfast Club Boy says and though I have been addressed by his (obviously male) name before I doubt it's going to work as well at a Box Office as it did at Goldsmiths Drama Office.

"I should have wangled a free ticket".

Breakfast Club Boy nods.

This is enough to get me started. Sadly, I have become too accustomed to free tickets and thus think I should get freebies - or at the least large discounts - for everything. I am a bad person -

Just before I reach full steam Breakfast Club Boy interupts me with a poke: "This isn't the National, it's Limehouse - pay up"

The man sitting behind the makeshift Box Office leans over. I confess I've almost forgotten he's there, listening in to our conversation.

"I'll just sit here and wait whilst you two finish arguing".

Oh god, I have become one of those people.

It is the best I can muster: "We like arguing" I say before I thrust my money down and slink off in search of someone to shoot me.

Later we tell the story to Elephant Foot (or Charming Canadian and Surfer Girl as they are more commonly known here).

"I thought it showed personality" Breakfast Club Boy says, clearly from a different school of customer service than me and my 'hello' is from.

"I wasn't offended - I didn't take it personally" I say. Except, of course, the bit where I realised I was that customer and had to hit myself in the face.

There's a beat. I have walked in to this one.

"Well" There's the pause. "You should have done".

Sadly his reactions are too quick and my fist doesn't make contact with his head.

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