Category Archives: Box Office Scenes

(ISAAC is listening to a woman complain about the current production’s seating configuration.)

WOMAN: I never would’ve bought a ticket if I knew I’d be sitting on a backless bench.
ISAAC: Ma’am, a disclaimer is published on our website, in a big yellow font –
WOMAN: Make it bigger, I’m old. Your website gave me such a headache. I had to use my magnifying glass. I have cataracts. I can’t sit without a back. I have spinal stenosis. Give me a seat with a back.
ISAAC: Ma’am, the seats with backs are considered premium seats –
WOMAN: Give me that.
ISAAC: – which means they’re more expensive. I’m happy to upgrade you, but you’d have to pay the difference.
WOMAN: I won’t pay an extra cent. I think you should put me there and not trouble me any further.
ISAAC: I can’t upgrade you for free. What I can do is move you to an aisle, if that would help.
WOMAN: How would an aisle help my back? I mean, I do want an aisle, because I’m intensely claustrophobic.
ISAAC: All right, I can move you right now to the aisle in your current row. Could I see your ticket?
WOMAN: Why do you do this to people? Why do you force them to sit on benches?
ISAAC: No one is forcing –
WOMAN: I have been worrying about this all day since I read about the backless benches online this morning. I just sat through the matinee of Death of a Salesman and all I could think about was this, was the backless benches. It ruined the whole play for me; I didn’t absorb a word of it. And I blame you.
ISAAC: Well, OK –
WOMAN: I’d like a premium aisle seat, out of courtesy. And, quite frankly, you should also be giving me another ticket to Death of a Salesman.

(ISAAC is on the phone with a WOMAN, exchanging her tickets.)

WOMAN: I hope I like this show. Do you think I’ll like it?
ISAAC: I haven’t seen it yet, but I’ve heard good things!
WOMAN: I’m going to Playwrights Horizons tomorrow night and, uck, I hated that last play they did.
ISAAC: Oh, really?
WOMAN: Yes. I wrote them a long letter letting them know exactly what I thought. I said, “I just don’t believe that scientists would talk that way, all ‘like’ and ‘uh’ and ‘um, whatever.’” And, would you believe, I got a letter back from the artistic director.
ISAAC: Oh?
WOMAN: Yes, and he did not like my opinion one bit! He wrote me the most condescending letter telling me that I needed to have a more open mind and that they had to fight for that play and wasn’t it wonderful that it appealed to so many young people. Well, if young people is all that concerns them, why don’t they just hire Lady Gaga to come in and fucking scream at everyone from the stage?
ISAAC: Well, it is good that young people are going to the theater, at least.
WOMAN: Right, but they’re being encouraged in the wrong ways. To mumble and uh and um and like, whatever all the time. Every theater is just putting a bunch of mumbling people on its stages. I just saw Richard III at BAM, with what’s his name –
ISAAC: Kevin Spacey.
WOMAN: Yes, and — you don’t mind if I spoil the ending for you, do you?
ISAAC: Well, I might see it –
WOMAN: He dies. And they string him up, hang him from his feet, and this completely incompetent actor steps forward and delivers the final monologue, and I’m thinking, this is it? These NYU kids, they mumble and they’re in everything.
ISAAC: Ah, well.
WOMAN: Did you see Venus in Fur?
ISAAC: I saw it off-Broadway.
WOMAN: What did you think of this Nina Arianda? She went to NYU. Everyone’s calling her the Meryl Streep of her generation. I find that very hard to believe.
ISAAC: You haven’t seen it?
WOMAN: I can’t bring myself to, but I’ve watched the clips online. It’s unbearable.
ISAAC: Well, I did see it, and I thought she was pretty impressive.
WOMAN: Well, she’s broad. She’s big. That pleases people.
ISAAC: OK.
WOMAN: My daughter is studying overseas in London, at RADA, and I keep hoping she fails, so she’ll stay there longer. I want to tell her, don’t come back, you’re better there. Look, I have a hard time; the list of places I hate grows with each week — BAM, New York Theatre Workshop, Lincoln Center –
ISAAC: (laugh) Wow.
WOMAN: You don’t agree with me. It’s OK, I’m used to defending my opinions.
ISAAC: No, it’s just — I love a lot of what those theaters do, too, so I can’t say I hate everything. Should I assume that you hate our theater, too?
WOMAN: You know, I saw something at your theater that I didn’t hate, a few years ago. That Virginia Woolf show, with the video. And I usually hate video, but I didn’t hate that.
ISAAC: Oh, good!
WOMAN: What’s your name? I want to say hello when I come.
ISAAC: It’s Isaac.
WOMAN: Oh, like in that Bible story I hate.
ISAAC: Oh! OK.
WOMAN: Yeah, I was five years old in Hebrew school when I heard that story, and that’s when I decided I hated God. Didn’t believe in him. I mean, what a horrid story. God tells Abraham to go kill his only son to prove his loyalty? I mean, are you serious? And Abraham’s all ready to do it, and God says, “Just kidding, I was testing you”? That is truly shitty.
ISAAC: (sigh) Well.
WOMAN: Well indeed. I will see you soon.

(ISAAC is on the phone with an ELDERLY WOMAN, one of his favorites, who sometimes calls to offer him free tickets to things. It’s one of those times.)

ELDERLY WOMAN: I have symphony tickets for Tuesday night, although I’m sure you’re working or something. I can give you a pair.
ISAAC: What time?
ELDERLY WOMAN: 7:00.
ISAAC: Oh, sh — shoot, I can’t –
ELDERLY WOMAN: You were going to say shit.
ISAAC: I was, I’m sorry. You caught me.
ELDERLY WOMAN: You can say it.
ISAAC: I can?
ELDERLY WOMAN: Sure. You’re a gentleman and you’re trying to be polite because I’m your elder. But I say shit all the time.
ISAAC: You do?
ELDERLY WOMAN: Are you kidding? I’m 78 and I’ve lived in New York all my life; you bet I say shit. I don’t give a fuck. I say whatever I please.
ISAAC: Oh my god! I love this.
ELDERLY WOMAN: You fucking love this.
ISAAC: I fucking love this.
ELDERLY WOMAN: That’s better.
ISAAC: Let’s talk like this more often.
ELDERLY WOMAN: OK.

(A chilly mid-December night. ISAAC and JENNIFER are selling tickets for that evening’s performance. Two girls approach the window, one of them fair and pleasant, the other sullen with a heavy strip of black make-up under each eye.)

PLEASANT GIRL: Hi, we’d like to get two tickets for tonight.
ISAAC: Great. The tickets are $35 each.
PLEASANT GIRL: And we have the 2-for-1 code.
ISAAC: OK, with that, the tickets are $17.50 each.
TEENY GAGA: Um, no, we have the 2-for-1 code.
ISAAC: Right, which makes the tickets $17.50 each.
TEENY GAGA: It’s 2-for-1.
ISAAC: Yes, two tickets for the price of one. One ticket is $35 and when you divide that by two, you get $17.50 each.
TEENY GAGA: Are you sure that’s the price?

(Beat.)

ISAAC: Yes, I am sure.
TEENY GAGA: (to her friend) I mean, what?
PLEASANT GIRL: I’m sorry, we’re seeing our friend in this show, and she told us –
TEENY GAGA: She told us the tickets were $7.
ISAAC: Your friend said that.
TEENY GAGA: Yeah, she said they were $7.
ISAAC: I’m sorry, it sounds like there was a miscommunication. The code is for a half-price ticket, and half of $35 is $17.50.
TEENY GAGA: We’re students.
ISAAC: OK, there is a student ticket, but that ticket is also $17.50. So, either way, the tickets will be $17.50 each. OK?
TEENY GAGA: (mumbling to her friend) Watch there be a $7 ticket.
ISAAC: There’s not. If there was, I would know about it.

(Teeny Gaga groans and tosses her credit card into the box office window slot. Her friend fishes through her wallet for cash.)

ISAAC: (picking up her card) Are you paying for both tickets on this card or just one?

(Teeny Gaga, looking mopey and emo, does not respond.)

ISAAC: Excuse me. Both tickets on the card?

(Teeny Gaga looks at the ceiling, probably wishing she was reading poetry into her webcam right now.)

ISAAC: (tapping on the glass) Excuse me, miss.
TEENY GAGA: (looking at him) What?
ISAAC: Are you paying for both tickets or just yours with this card?
TEENY GAGA: Just mine. Why would I pay for hers?
PLEASANT GIRL: (still fishing through her wallet, pulling out singles) Well, I can give you this cash if you want and you can put them both on your card.
TEENY GAGA: No, just mine on the card. (to her friend) I could’ve sworn she said $7.
PLEASANT GIRL: (handing ISAAC eighteen singles) I’m sorry, I only have singles.
ISAAC: It’s not a problem at all. Thank you.

(Another girl approaches Jennifer’s window.)

GIRL: Hi, could I get a student ticket for tonight?
JENNIFER: Sure.

(Isaac hands Teeny Gaga back her credit card along with a receipt.)

ISAAC: OK, I just need your signature there on the line –
TEENY GAGA: I’m sorry, but you just told that girl that she could get in as a student, and you told us that we couldn’t.
ISAAC: I did not tell you that you couldn’t. I told you that the student price was the exact same price as the ticket you’re already purchasing. They are both $17.50.
TEENY GAGA: Okay.
ISAAC: (handing them their tickets) Here you are, two for tonight. Enjoy the show.
PLEASANT GIRL: Thanks a lot.
TEENY GAGA: (to the girl at Jennifer’s window) Was yours $17.50?

(It’s 8:05 on the evening of a sold-out show. ISAAC is in the box office with his co-worker CRISTINA and JOSH, the company manager. A woman storms up to ISAAC’S window.)

WOMAN: Why did you give away our tickets? We were first on the waiting list.
ISAAC: We called your name at 7:55, but you were not here.
WOMAN: We were in a cab headed back here. There was horrible traffic. We called into your phone room to tell them to hold our tickets, we’d be right there.
ISAAC: You didn’t have tickets. You were on the waiting list for potential cancellations. If you aren’t present when we get a cancellation and call your name, we move on to the next person on the list.
WOMAN: We called. We told you we were coming. We spoke to a girl. Who did we speak to?

(CRISTINA, seated next to ISAAC, raises her hand.)

WOMAN: You. You told us we’d be fine.
CRISTINA: I did not tell you that.
WOMAN: We were first on the list.
ISAAC: And you have to be back here by 7:45 or –
WOMAN: Excuse me, I do not want to speak to you anymore. You are nasty. You have an attitude that I am against (hand to heart) spiritually.
ISAAC: OK.
WOMAN: We were stuck in traffic. Doesn’t that count for anything?
CRISTINA: We called your names at 7:55. We waited as long as we could, but we had to go to the next name on the list.
WOMAN: You knew we were coming.
CRISTINA: You were late.
WOMAN: We were at Columbus Circle. There was traffic. What do you want us to do, fly? I’d love to. You told us it was OK, you’d hold the tickets.
CRISTINA: No, I did not. There were no tickets to hold. You were on the waiting list.
WOMAN: Please. We are very busy people. It’s not the end of the world, but we do not have time for this. How could you skip us?
CRISTINA: You have to be here at 7:45. That’s when, if we get cancellations, we start to go down the waiting list.
WOMAN: Why?
ISAAC: Ma’am, those are the rules.
WOMAN: Rules were meant to be broken! We’re human. You’re human. Look around you, you’re in a beautiful theater. (to CRISTINA) He is very nasty, I feel sorry for him.
ISAAC: OK.
WOMAN: You and your rules, rules, rules. You know who else loved rules? The Nazis. You’d better be careful; you’re acting like one of them. You’re a Nazi.
JOSH: (stepping out of the box office) Ma’am. Please leave.
WOMAN: It’s a point well-made, I think!
JOSH: I don’t think so. Please leave.
WOMAN: Oh, I’m leaving! This all makes me too sad to stay.

WOMAN: Hello?
ISAAC: Hi, is this [name withheld]?
WOMAN: Speaking!
ISAAC: Hi, I’m calling from the [name withheld] box office, with some good news about your ticket for tomorrow night.
WOMAN: I’m wary of good news.

(Beat.)

ISAAC: OK, well, I’m able to upgrade you to the main orchestra section. Row G, seat 101, on the aisle.
WOMAN: Hmm.
ISAAC: You are currently up in the gallery level – Row K on the side.
WOMAN: I like being on the side.
ISAAC: You do?
WOMAN: Yes. Hard to believe?
ISAAC: You are just the first person I’ve ever heard say that in my entire time at this job.
WOMAN: I don’t like to be near people.
ISAAC: Oh. Well, G (101) is on the aisle, so you’d only have people to one side of you.
WOMAN: But I’d be down amongst the people.
ISAAC: Well, yes.
WOMAN: Darling, I go to the theater seven nights a week; I’m very particular. When I’m surrounded by people, they’re texting, they’re talking, they’ve got their frizzy hair in my puss, jutting into my view. I thought Row K sounded fabulous — a gallery level, above it all.
ISAAC: Well, the view is not as great from that seat –
WOMAN: I’m all right with that.
ISAAC: And there’s a guard rail in front of you, so the leg room –
WOMAN: That’s fine. I’m short.
ISAAC: OK.
WOMAN: I want to sit wherever people don’t want to sit, because that means people won’t be there. Aren’t there other people in Row K you can move?
ISAAC: All right, I’ll level with you: I need to move people out of that row so the company can use it and was hoping this upgrade would be so appealing that you’d be thrilled to take it.
WOMAN: Little did you know you’d met your match!

(ISAAC is handing out tickets to a woman and a small boy.)

MOTHER: And how long is the show?
ISAAC: A little under an hour.
MOTHER: Great, thank you. And we enter through those doors right there?
ISAAC: Right there behind you, yes.
MOTHER: Thanks.

(They start to leave, and the boy turns back to ISAAC.)

SMALL BOY: It must be really boring to work in a box all day.
MOTHER: Jacob! It is very rude to make fun of someone’s job.

The other night at work right before the evening performance I heard applause and cheers coming from inside the theater. At first I worried I’d suffered a minor stroke and regained consciousness three hours later, at curtain call, my hands still in the will call rack. But, no, it was 7:55 and the audience was giving an ovation.

Turns out a woman in the audience stood up in her row and called out, “Excuse me, ladies and gentleman! Someone left a coat on my seat and I don’t know whose it is! Is this anyone’s coat?” When no one answered, she pressed on, “This isn’t anyone’s coat?” and as another moment passed with the coat unclaimed she announced, “All right, I’m checking the pockets!”

After rifling through the pockets for a couple seconds she paused, looked up, and said, “Oh, it’s mine!”

Fuck, I would’ve clapped for her too.

MIDDLE-AGED MAN: Hi, our tickets are in the front row, but we just had a big, heavy meal and we’re both worried we might fall asleep.
ISAAC: OK.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN: Do you have anything a little further back?
ISAAC: I don’t, we’re completely sold out.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN: Well, can you switch us with someone else? We really don’t want to insult the actors by being asleep in the front row.
ISAAC: I can’t, no. If there are seats open at intermission you are more than welcome to move into them.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN: At intermission?
ISAAC: Yes. Maybe you can just keep pinching yourselves during the first act?
MIDDLE-AGED MAN: I guess.
ISAAC: And, who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy it enough to not fall asleep.
MIDDLE-AGED MAN: I just know this play so well and am so full of pasta.

(ISAAC is on the phone with an ELDERLY MAN.)

ELDERLY MAN: The last two shows I’ve been to at your theater I have not been able to hear one word out of the actors’ mouths! Not one iota. At your most recent production I was in the second row, and even though I’m sure the author didn’t write a mystery, the plot was a mystery to me.
ISAAC: I’m very sorry. I do know that some of our hearing devices work better than others.
ELDERLY MAN: Well, I’ve been twice, and I don’t want to chance it again. I went and got tested, out on Long Island where they do tests, and I’m completely gone in my left ear but my right ear’s still got a little zing. They’re gonna give me my very own device, and they tell me it will fix everything for me and I will hear again. So, my question to you is: I have a ticket for next week but I’m not getting my device until the end of the month — can you switch me to a date next month when I know I’ll hear it?
ISAAC: Well, generally there are no exchanges –
ELDERLY MAN: Oh no!
ISAAC: But, let me see –
ELDERLY MAN: Oh please, sir! I love Shakespeare, I’ve seen everything, even back during the war I would go see plays, back in ’44. I can’t remember what I saw in ’44. What was it I saw in ’44? It’s gone.
ISAAC: I’ll make an exception for you.
ELDERLY MAN: Only one ticket, that’s all I have. My wife hates it, she won’t go. She hates the language – I don’t know why, she’s always talking herself. Do you have anything on a Saturday or Sunday matinee? My wife worries less if I’m at a matinee. She thinks things will happen to me out in the world, and she may be right.
ISAAC: Could you do a Wednesday matinee? I have better availability then.
ELDERLY MAN: Oh no, I go to meetings. I’m still politically active, if you can believe it.
ISAAC: (clicking through) All right, so a Saturday or Sunday matinee in April. Hmm. There’s not a whole lot left.
ELDERLY MAN: Skip it. I’ll go at night. Let her worry.
ISAAC: No, no, I actually found a matinee — Saturday the 16th at 2pm. I have a seat in the front row center.
ELDERLY MAN: Oh, that’s wonderful! I’ll take it. I’m so pleased. You’ve made an old man very happy.
ISAAC: Well, I’m glad. Just give me one second so I can process the exchange.
ELDERLY MAN: And I’ll be able to hear!
ISAAC: Yes. I’m sorry about your experience with our devices.
ELDERLY MAN: I can fake my political meetings, but I can’t fake the theater; I need to hear it. You don’t know this yet, you’re a nice young man, but it’s horrible to get old. It’s the worst thing. You want to scream and shout about it, but your arms don’t move.

You told me I should be fired. You told me you hope the theater I work at shuts down. You told me you hope the play in the theater fails.

You told me you’d write a letter to my boss, to theater websites, to the New York Times denouncing me (finally, my name in the Times!).

All over $25. All because you were sick and missed your show and would now like to come again for free, which is not possible because we are sold out.

What, you think if you are as nasty and horrible as possible, death won’t want to deal with you? Death will, ma’am. There’s nothing he loves more than a challenge.

MAN: Give me two for Friday.
ISAAC: For Friday night all I have left is a pair in Row K, seats 2 and 4 on the aisle.
MAN: That’s cold, man.

« »

WOMAN: I’m picking up two tickets under [last name withheld].
ISAAC: (pulling a pair of tickets off the rack) First name Sara?
WOMAN: Yes, ma’am. Oh, sorry. Sir.

« »

ISAAC: Hi there, how can I help you?
WOMAN: First things first, I want you to know that it is easier to get into heaven than it is to get a ticket from this box office.
ISAAC: All right, I’ll pass that feedback along.

ELDERLY WOMAN: I have been here thrice today! Finally, you are open.
ISAAC: Sorry, we don’t open until 4 on weekdays.
ELDERLY WOMAN: This is new.
ISAAC: Oh, now, you know it’s not new.
ELDERLY WOMAN: It is new to me.
ISAAC: Don’t you remember me, ma’am? We’ve had this conversation before, last season. You came early and were upset that we weren’t open until 4. Do you remember?
ELDERLY WOMAN: (eyes narrowed) Kevin.
ISAAC: Isaac.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Hand me your implement; I shall write it down.
ISAAC: How can I help you?
ELDERLY WOMAN: Where is your Shakespeare? (gestures to the pieces of scenery crowding the theater lobby) Is this Shakespeare?
ISAAC: No, this is for a new play that’s loading in to the theater.
ELDERLY WOMAN: You do not have Shakespeare for me?
ISAAC: I do, but it’s at our sister theater, just up the block, closer to 7th Avenue.
ELDERLY WOMAN: (pounding on the windowsill) I must go somewhere else?
ISAAC: No, no, I can sell you a ticket, but the actual performance will be at the theater just a few doors down.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Thank you. You always steer me in the right direction. I do remember you.

(She looks at the other scenic pieces in the lobby.)

ELDERLY WOMAN: There is a toilet in your hallway.
ISAAC: It’s for the set.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Should I see this brand new play?
ISAAC: If you’d like.
ELDERLY WOMAN: What is it about?
ISAAC: It’s set in a prison –
ELDERLY WOMAN: Oh, dear.
ISAAC: It’s about a death-row inmate who miraculously survives the lethal injection –
ELDERLY WOMAN: Can’t you offer me something more cheerful?
ISAAC: How about Shakespeare?
ELDERLY WOMAN: I would love that. This Saturday matinee. Where can you seat me?
ISAAC: I have front orchestra and mezzanine for $75 –
ELDERLY WOMAN: (pounding on the windowsill) What is this! Air travel?
ISAAC: Or I have rear orchestra or mezzanine for $50.
ELDERLY WOMAN: $50 I can do. But I must see. I cannot be far from it, it is too depressing, I have lived so long — can I not be so far?
ISAAC: I can get you a seat in an orchestra box for $50. You’ll be right up close.
ELDERLY WOMAN: You have always gotten me a good seat. Have you seen it?
ISAAC: Not yet.
ELDERLY WOMAN: And why is that?
ISAAC: It’s hard for me to want to commit to another three hours here after working all day.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Continue like that and you will regret it when you are old. See it. You have three hours you can give to Shakespeare. 

(ISAAC hands her a ticket. She looks at it.)

ELDERLY WOMAN: Is there snow coming? Was this a mistake?
ISAAC: I don’t think we’re supposed to have snow until Tuesday.
ELDERLY WOMAN: I am dependent on the A train.
ISAAC: Me too.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Uptown or downtown?
ISAAC: Uptown. Washington Heights.
ELDERLY WOMAN: That’s me, too!
ISAAC: 181st Street.
ELDERLY WOMAN: I am in Hudson View!
ISAAC: Well, hey, neighbor! I’m above the Groom Team.
ELDERLY WOMAN: You are below the Spanish steps. I call them that because they have grand steps just like that in Spain.
ISAAC: They are beautiful.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Have you been?
ISAAC: To Spain? No.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Let me guess.  It’s hard for you to commit to it.
ISAAC: There are other factors, too!
ELDERLY WOMAN: Tsk, tsk. You are young and have time for everything. People who desire money can have it. I desire time.

(ISAAC is in the box office pulling house seat orders when a DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD approaches his window.)

DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: Pardon me. Would you by any chance have a single ticket available for this evening’s performance?
ISAAC: (incapacitated) Yes, I do.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: Fantastic. Now, not to be overly greedy, but I’m an acting student and requisitely impoverished. Is there a rush price?
ISAAC: $10.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: You’re joking.
ISAAC: It’s true.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: I can’t believe it.
ISAAC: I just need to see your student I.D.

(The DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD hands ISAAC his student I.D., which ISAAC is tempted to make a photocopy of, but restrains himself and sells him a ticket.)

DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: I read in the paper that Cicely Berry is the vocal coach on this?
ISAAC: Yes, she works on all of their shows.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: They just — fly her over?
ISAAC: They just — fly her over.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: I would die to work with her. Is she still here?
ISAAC: I don’t know. I can try to find out, if you want to check back in with me later.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: Maybe I will.
ISAAC: Great.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: This is so exciting.  I can’t wait to see this.  Is it all right if I sit here for a moment and send a text message?
ISAAC: Of course.

(A MAN runs in and up to the window.)

MAN: Do you use volunteer ushers?
ISAAC: No, we have a paid staff.
MAN: What’s your cheapest seat?
ISAAC: $50.
MAN: Are you at the TKTS Booth?
ISAAC: You can check there and see.
MAN: Can’t you just tell me?  I don’t want to walk all the way over there if you aren’t there.

(Beat.  The MAN finally turns and runs back out.)

DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: You must deal with that all day.  I’m sorry.
ISAAC: (incapacitated) It’s a living.  You’re an actor?
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: Yes.
ISAAC: Well, I think you’ll really like this show.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: This is such a great day. Are you having a good day?
ISAAC: (marrying him in his mind) Yes, I am, thank you. No one ever asks.
DREAMBOAT BRITISH LAD: I’m having a great day, too. I get to see Shakespeare, I met a beautiful girl this morning in a cafe called the Vienna, and (holding up his iPhone) she just texted me asking if I’d like to get together after my acting class this evening. What a day.
ISAAC: (ruined) What a day.

(ISAAC, BRETT and JOSH are in the box office, handing out will call for that evening’s performance. CHRIS MESSINA approaches ISAAC’S window.)

CHRIS MESSINA: Hey, man, can you break a fifty?
ISAAC: Sure.

(ISAAC takes the bill and holds it up to the light, then tests it with the counterfeit bill pen. He gives CHRIS MESSINA change for the fifty.)

CHRIS MESSINA: Thanks.
ISAAC: You’re welcome.

(CHRIS MESSINA walks off.)

ISAAC: Oh my god, I can’t believe Chris Messina just handed me a $50 bill.
JOSH: I can’t believe you held it up to the light right in front of him.
ISAAC: Look, he may have a perfect hairy chest and be in Woody Allen movies, but there’s still protocol.

FIN.

(ISAAC and BRETT are in the box office. Two elderly women approach BRETT’S window.)

ELDERLY WOMAN #1: Here we are, for some foul language.
BRETT: Oh yes. There’s a lot in this show!
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: What?
ELDERLY WOMAN #2: Are you serious?
BRETT: Oh, is that bad?
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: It says it’s set in the 18th century. They didn’t talk like that in the 18th century. Let me tell you, playwrights these days need to learn that there is more than one adjective, and plenty of them are more than four letters, and they are quite elegant.
BRETT: Okay.
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: I’m serious! I’m sick of paying to hear language that I’d throw someone out of my house for using.

(Beat.)

ELDERLY WOMAN #1: What have you got for the 23rd?
BRETT: I can do two in Row C, on the aisle.
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: That might work.
ELDERLY WOMAN #2: Until some giant sits in front of me.
BRETT: I have a pair in Row A as well, two seats in –
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: We don’t have vision problems. We’re short.
BRETT: How about a few rows back, then? I can do Row G.
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: Okay, we’ll take those.
ELDERLY WOMAN #2: Do you have booster seats?
BRETT: Unfortunately, no.
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: It’s not just little kids who are short, you know. When you get older you get smaller.
BRETT: All right, you’re all set for the 23rd in Row G. 
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: We are off to see something that has no nasty language, thank you very much. Just classic Broadway music, from when they knew how to write it. And it’s without amplification, so there are no microphones and no shrieking. Just singing, like when they knew how to sing.  “Broadway Unplugged,” at Town Hall.
BRETT: I haven’t heard of that.
ELDERLY WOMAN #1: Oh, you should go. It is wonderful. It’s how it all used to be. I saw everything from the last row, with my babysitting money, and they didn’t have microphones then and I could hear every word. Every clean word.

FIN.

(ISAAC and BRETT are in the box office. An elderly couple approaches BRETT’S window.)

OLD MAN: Two tickets for this evening, please.
BRETT: All right, I have two in Row F, on the aisle.
OLD MAN: We’ll take them.
BRETT: It’ll be $40.

(The OLD MAN hands BRETT his credit card.)

OLD WOMAN: And let me tell you why we are here.
BRETT: Okay.
OLD WOMAN: We went online to buy tickets, but there was a $5 per-ticket handling fee.
BRETT: Yes.
OLD WOMAN: Five dollars per ticket.  That is outrageous. That is twenty-five percent of the ticket.
BRETT: I know, I hear you, it’s just that’s our flat fee for every ticket price, for $20 or $120, there’s a $5 fee.
OLD WOMAN: I won’t pay it. It’s against my religion.
OLD MAN: (to her) What’s your religion?
OLD WOMAN: So we said we’d come down here and take our chances. If it’s sold out, it’s sold out, and we’ll see something else. I refuse to pay a fee that high. Truth be told, we went on Audience Extras first to see if there were any free tickets.
BRETT: All right.
OLD WOMAN: You have to make your feelings known. If enough people protest the $5 fee, then you’ll stop charging it. Although people are sheep, so maybe not.
BRETT: Okay, you’re all set for tonight at 8:00.
OLD WOMAN: Look at him. He doesn’t agree with me.
BRETT: No, I agree, that’s why I go to the box office when I’m buying tickets, to avoid the fees.
OLD WOMAN: You should join Audience Extras.
OLD MAN: They have lots of good stuff.
OLD WOMAN: For free!
OLD MAN: Have you been on The Ride?

FIN.

(ISAAC is selling a single ticket to an ELDERLY WOMAN. The transaction is wrapping up.)

ELDERLY WOMAN: I’m seeing Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown tonight.
ISAAC: Oh, I’m jealous!
ELDERLY WOMAN: I just watched the film and loved it.  I hope it’s good.  I mean, anything Bartlett Sher does is good.
ISAAC: I’m looking forward to seeing it.
ELDERLY WOMAN: I told my friend I was going, and he said, “Is she well-off?”
ISAAC: What?
ELDERLY WOMAN: He thought I was going to see an actual woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown at the Belasco Theater.  I mean, come on.  He’s a gay man.  He should be up on such matters.

FIN.

(ISAAC is finishing a transaction with a WELL-DRESSED OLDER WOMAN.)

ISAAC: All right, and four dollars is your change.

(He starts to hand her her change.)

WELL-DRESSED OLDER WOMAN: Oh, no, no, no.  Please do not give me those old one dollar bills.  Please give me four nicer bills.

(Beat.)

ISAAC: Okay. I’ll see what I have.
WELL-DRESSED OLDER WOMAN: I hate dirty money.

FIN.

(ISAAC and BRETT are in the box office, gearing up for that afternoon’s matinee performance. A WOMAN approaches the window.)

WOMAN: Where is everybody?
BRETT: I’m sorry?
WOMAN: Isn’t the show starting?
BRETT: No?
WOMAN: The show isn’t at noon?
BRETT: No, the show is at 2.
WOMAN: Oh my god. I can’t believe this. The lady on the phone told me the show started at 12 noon.
HER FRIEND DOWN THE HALL: What’s wrong?
WOMAN: (calling to her friend) The show’s at 2!
HER FRIEND DOWN THE HALL: What!
WOMAN: It doesn’t start at noon?
BRETT: No, I’m sorry, the performance today is at 2:00.
WOMAN: Well, someone made a mistake and it wasn’t me!

(Beat.)

WOMAN: I mean, why would I come at the wrong time? It wasn’t me.
BRETT: I’m very sorry, ma’am, I wasn’t present for the phone call, but I doubt that anyone on our staff would tell you the performance was at noon.  We don’t have any noon performances.
WOMAN: No. No. She said to me that the show started at noon.
BRETT: Maybe she was saying that the box office opens at noon?
WOMAN: I don’t believe it.
HER FRIEND DOWN THE HALL: What’s going on?
WOMAN: We’re two hours early.
HER FRIEND DOWN THE HALL: Let’s eat!
WOMAN: (to BRETT) I’m not crazy. I wouldn’t come at the wrong time.
BRETT: Okay.

(The WOMAN wanders off down the hall. A few moments later she returns, holding up a worn show postcard with scribblings on it.)

WOMAN: To prove that I am not crazy. This is what I wrote down when I was ordering the tickets: “12 PM.” See that?
BRETT: Yes.
WOMAN: Just so you know.
HER FRIEND DOWN THE HALL: Come on, let’s eat.

FIN.

(ISAAC and BRETT are handing out tickets prior to the Wednesday matinee. A WOMAN approaches ISAAC’S window.)

WOMAN: Here you go.

(She hands him a printout of her confirmation.)

ISAAC: It says here your tickets were mailed to you. Did you not receive them?
WOMAN: Oh, maybe I did. Let me check in my purse.

(She hoists an enormous bag onto the windowsill, begins to rummage through it.)

ISAAC: I can reprint your tickets if you don’t have them.
WOMAN: Who knows? There might be tickets in this purse.

(A moment later she pulls out a handful of tickets.)

WOMAN: Here you go.
ISAAC: No.
WOMAN: Yes.
ISAAC: No, these are for “Banana Shpeel.”
WOMAN: They are?
ISAAC: Yes.
WOMAN: How about these?
ISAAC: These are for the ballet.
WOMAN: You’d better reprint my tickets.
ISAAC: All right.

FIN.

(ISAAC is in the box office, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Laura Bell Bundy is now a country music star. An older couple approaches the window.)

HUSBAND: Are you ready for us?
ISAAC: I am!
WIFE: We’re very organized.
HUSBAND: Don’t put your hand on his window.
WIFE: He’s my social secretary. I go wherever he tells me.
ISAAC: That’s nice. I’m jealous!
WIFE: Don’t be. He’s a pain.
HUSBAND: We’ve got our dates circled. It will only be a minute.

(He pulls out a stack of brochures from various theaters and shows playing on and off Broadway, finds the appropriate one.)

HUSBAND: We’d like to do an evening show on a Saturday so we can book a matinee somewhere else.
WIFE: We’re retired now.
ISAAC: Congratulations.
WIFE: We get to see more theater. It costs an arm and a leg.
HUSBAND: Don’t say that. We find the deals.
WIFE: We’ll sit anywhere. We’ll sit in the last row for $20. Knock it down to $10 and set me up a folding chair by the exit.
HUSBAND: You know what’s really good?
ISAAC: What?
HUSBAND: Do you have a couple minutes?
ISAAC: … Yes.
HUSBAND: “Enron.”
ISAAC: Oh, yes, that’s on my list.
HUSBAND: It is eerie.
WIFE: It’s especially eerie if you have a broker telling you what you should and shouldn’t be buying. We don’t know half the stuff he brings our way. It could be the next Enron, who knows?
ISAAC: Right, right.
WIFE: My friend’s father had stock in Enron. He lost a lot of money. So we felt very personally connected to the story.
HUSBAND: There’s no one behind us in line. Can I tell you a joke?
WIFE: What are you going to tell him, the sardine joke?
HUSBAND: Yeah, the sardine joke. You want to tell it?
WIFE: Yes.
HUSBAND: You tell it.
WIFE: Two traveling salesmen — our fathers were both traveling salesmen — two traveling salesmen are sitting in a bar. One of them says, “I just bought a whole railroad car full of sardines for $200,” and the other says, “That’s an amazing bargain! I’ll buy them from you for $400,” and the other says, “OK.” So the second salesman buys the railroad car full of sardines, and he says to another salesman, “Hey, I’ve got a railroad car full of sardines for $400,” and the next salesman says, “That’s, that’s an incredible bargain, I’ll buy them from you for $600!” And so on and so on. Finally, the last salesman to buy them is talking to another salesman, and that salesman says, “I want to look at these sardines you just paid $2,000 for,” and they go to the railroad car and they open a can of sardines and — they’re terrible. The salesman says, “These are disgusting! Why would you buy these?” and the other salesman says, “They’re not for eating. They’re for buying and selling.”

(Beat.)

HUSBAND: And that, times a thousand, was Enron.
ISAAC: That’s a good one.
HUSBAND: It’s amazing, what those guys did. They were selling the store before it had even opened.
WIFE: It’s like they were selling the air rights to a building that hadn’t even been built yet.
ISAAC: Right.
HUSBAND: It’s like they were selling gas and oil before the refineries had even been built.
ISAAC: Right, right. Well, I’m looking very forward to seeing that play.

(Beat.)

HUSBAND: We should get our tickets and stop distracting him from his college work.
ISAAC: Oh, no, no, I’m long out of college.
WIFE: His graduate work.
ISAAC: No, no, I’m not in school at all.
HUSBAND: His screenplay.
ISAAC: Close! I am a writer.
HUSBAND: I knew it! I can always tell a writer.
WIFE: What do you write?
ISAAC: Plays. And creative nonfict –
WIFE: Plays!
HUSBAND: Plays!
ISAAC: Plays!
WIFE: We can say we knew you when.
HUSBAND: When is your next play?
ISAAC: Well, we’re trying to get one up in the fall. Hopefully.
HUSBAND: Take my e-mail and send us the info when you’ve got it. We’ll come.
ISAAC: You will?
HUSBAND: Sure! We love to see theater.
WIFE: Just remember, we’ll sit in your cheapest seat. $10, I’m fine in a folding chair by the door.

FIN.

(ISAAC is watching CASSIE play on the website The Most Awesomest Thing Ever, where you must choose which is the most awesomest thing ever of two randomly-matched things, people, or places.  NBA Jam vs. “Phantom of the Opera,” Charles Bronson vs. Kentucky, and then … Chris Brown vs. Floppy Disks.  CASSIE picks Chris Brown.)

ISAAC: (gasping) What! He beat up Rihanna!
CASSIE: Please. Floppy disks suck.

FIN.

(ISAAC and BRETT are working in the box office. BRETT is selling a single ticket to an OLDER WOMAN.)

BRETT: And how did you hear about the show?
OLDER WOMAN: Oh, just around, I’m in the neighborhood, and I read about it in the newspaper.
BRETT: Great.
OLDER WOMAN: Also, a former serious boyfriend gave me once, as a present, the sonnets in French and English.  We’re talking sixty years ago, this was.  So, it’s very special.
BRETT: Very nice.
OLDER WOMAN: I called him.  I invited him to come with me, but he said no.  That’s the course of true love, sixty years later.  He’s married now, with a wife and kids.  Grandkids.
BRETT: Oh, well, you can change that.
OLDER WOMAN: (rueful laugh) No, no, I can’t. 
BRETT: Okay.
OLDER WOMAN: The French had the right idea.
BRETT: Well, you’re all set for tomorrow evening at 8:00.  Doors are right behind you, and they open at 7:30.
OLDER WOMAN: (looking at the tickets, reciting) “No longer mourn for me when I am dead …”

(She looks up at BRETT.)

OLDER WOMAN: Thank you.

FIN.

(ISAAC, BRETT and LEE are in the box office, handing out tickets for that evening’s curtain.)

ISAAC: I’m going to Destination Bar tonight. Anyone been there?
BRETT: No.
LEE: No, where is it?
ISAAC: The East Village.
LEE: No.

(An older couple, in matching Captain Hats, approach BRETT’S window.)

OLDER WOMAN: We have four tickets for tonight under Weintraub.

(BRETT hands them their tickets and they walk off.)

LEE: Now, they’ve been to Destination Bar.
ISAAC: Been there? They discovered Destination Bar.
BRETT: In 1492.

FIN.