OPINION: Waiting for Shakespeare in the Park
All the good spots are taken by nine. Everyone knows this. People stretched out on benches and chairs along a path in Central Park like something from a history book, sleeping, sweating, eyeing that last sip of water. I’m left with one option. It’s the end of the line or nothing, one more hopeful waiting all morning for free Shakespeare in the Park tickets.
Despite a lush cathedral of trees, it’s already warm and balmy inside the park. Today is the final performance of the Public Theater’s production of “The Comedy of Errors,” and I’m hoping it gets hotter. Brutal would be nice – the more suffering the better, because I’m not just here for tickets; I plan to whine and complain too. If this thing runs smoothly then I am left with nothing.
I’ve come seeking penance for copping scalped tickets to last year’s performance of Into the Woods. It was decadent, way beyond my means, and certainly not in the spirit of the Public Theater’s Great Joe Papp. So if I sweat here for hours and miss by only one or two heads, that should teach me. Should I acquire the coveted passes and rain pours down like Juliet’s tears, then I shall be reborn. Last year I offered a man $250 to wait on line for me. He stood there grinning and said, “Perfect.”