Waiting For the End of the Line

Village Voice
December 10, 1996
By Lee Foust

9:30 Vladimir and I arrive and procure places corresponding to the last of the 34 reserved artist/poor people $20 seats for a Wednesday evening performance of Rent.

10:00 Hungover, Vladimir stretches out on the sidewalk and sleeps. A fellow named Lucky joins us at the end of the line.

11:00 We're acutely aware of Disney's hardhats renovating the Amsterdam Theatre. They stare at us, we stare at them. They're too jovial. We decide that office workers are ill-tempered. Rumors fly: "The day after the Tonys at four in the afternoon I was second in line."

12:00 It's evident we're the only people waiting who aren't theater people, and I'm the only one who lives below 14th Street.

1:00 Games of Uno proliferate. Two tourists who've been coming and going desert the line in favor of Jekyll and Hyde's. We rejoice at our restituted office-bound buddies' seats.

2:00 What the hell am I doing here? Lucky notes that we could have worked these nine hours and more than paid for $67.50 orchestra seats. We're waiting, I insist, for Rent.

3:00 The same passerby again, mumbling gibberish. A ZZ-Top look-alike pushing a mail bin. An aging rocker-chic escorting similars toward Penn Station. She points out a fresh-faced drama student while her friend laughs, headbangin'.

4:00 We've tired of the gorgeous couple with the lawn chair snuggling. Someone buys a can of air-freshener to fend off the urine around the stage door.

5:00 I buy a Street News to get rid of a guy and because I feel he should get something out of a show that uses street people as characters.

6:00 Finally we're sold tickets. New friendships dissolve as we disperse for dinner. Lucky stands disappointed, tickets in hand--his companion still hasn't arrived.

8:00 Curtain time. We're reunited like a cast party. I'm struck by the disparity between our T-shirted grimy selves and the beginning of geriatric, dry-clean-only land behind us. We hoot, we cheer, we tap our feet while the suits and gowns look the other way. We didn't buy our seats, we rented.