On Friday night Wilzie and I went to catch an improv show. This is one of our favourite things to do on the weekends, because its nice to get out of the house, we love to laugh and the 11pm start time makes up feel like rebellious young’uns.
As we walked up to the theatre, there was already a pretty long line for the show, so we took our place at the back and waited for the doors to open.
It was an unseasonably warm night, so we were enjoying the fresh air and minding our own business when it happened – one of the worst sins known to man – someone cut in line.
This is actually quite a common occurence in this particular line up – one or two people get there ridiculously early to hold a spot for a couple of friends who show up closer to the doors opening (often with a coffee for the poor souls who had to stand in the cold) – so we didn’t think much of it.
Until more people strolled up and joined this group a couple of people ahead of us.
And then more showed up and pushed their way in line to join their friends.
At this point, Wilzie and I just about exhausted our daily supply of eye rolls and under-your-breath-but-hopefully-just-loud-enough-for-people-to-hear comments and we had moved on to exaggerated head shakes with a side of “C’mon! Are you freaking kidding me?!”s.
One of the guys did make a comment like “Well, I guess we should get a place in line…” and left the group to stand at the end of the line. When it became clear that no one else had any intention of moving to the back with him, he shrugged and re-joined his friends ahead of us.
But, despite our obvious passive-aggressive sighs, it didn’t stop there – by the time the doors opened there were close to 20 people huddled around the 2 people who originated their spot in the queue – and everyone behind them was really starting to voice their displeasure.
But the large group of mostly young, asian muscleheads just laughed it off and ignored the comments coming from behind them. One even did a side hand-stand on a street sign to distract his buddies from the angry mob.
As we slowly shuffled our way closer to the door, even MORE people joined this brazen group until their numbers swelled to over 30!
By the time we finally got to the ticket window, they were sold out!
And I think my feelings were pretty sell summed up by the girl right in front of us, “Fuck you guys! Thanks a lot, assholes!”
A part of me was cursing my inherent Canadian polite-ness for not really saying anything, and I know that my new year’s resolution was to not be afraid to speak up for what I believe in – but I honestly don’t know what I could have done that would have made any difference.
People (including us) were protesting, people were complaining to the (mostly volunteer) staff, but the line-cutters just laughed at our complaints and the staff, being used to the culture of cutting (or “holding a spot”), either didn’t grasp the excessive nature of this circumstance, or didn’t want to confront this large, cocky group of young men.
Either way, we left without a single laugh or feeling at all rebellious.
At least we got out of the house…
**Wilzie and I did send an email to the manager detailing our experience, and complaining that as members of that theatre we couldn’t get in to see the show. She was extremely gracious and helpful and comped us two tickets (and front of the line access!) for the next night’s show.