Shrek the Musical

Getting discounted tickets for Shrek the Musical today presented itself as an all-too-easy task. But rushing is a gamble, and things either fall right into place or they, well, don't. Shrek has a student rush policy, but it's $36.50, which is the most expensive student rush price I have ever seen. Although such a high rush price is a bit odd for a production that played to just over 51 percent capacity in late January, the producers probably had to differenciate the price from that of their ticket lottery, which they seem to be pushing much harder.

Cutely named The Duloc Ticket Lottery to connect with the show, the drawing is held in the M&Ms World store (five blocks away from Shrek's Broadway Theatre). This is an interesting partnership between production and retail, as it seems to encourage commerce 'while you wait.' The only other show I've known to do this was the now defunct Young Frankenstein, which held its lotto drawing at the 42nd St. McDonald's. That, however, was across the street from the Hilton Theatre and seemed convenient enough. I don't quite understand why Shrek would hold its lotto drawing at M&Ms World when it is so far away (and the Broadway Theatre has an enormous lobby), other than they're getting a small kickback from Mars Inc.

Equus

I long for summer. Not because I'll be able to take long walks in Central Park without my ears falling off. Not because I can sit outside at Blockheads and enjoy $3 frozen margaritas. But because student rushing shows won't be such torture!

I arrived at the Broadhurst Theatre at 8:15 this morning. I was first in line, which is satisfying, yet at the same time always induces me with the irrational fear that all other rushers must know something I don't, or else why wouldn't they already be here. I especially was nervous because this is the final week for the run of this Peter Shaffer play and had thought more rushers would be taking their last chances. My arrival to the theater must have been Mother Nature's cue, because a blizzard commenced instantly, and lasted through the box office opening (not to mention the rest of the day). I stood just under the edge of the awning where the most logical entrance to the box office would be, come 10am. By the time a few people had joined me in my frigid wait for tickets, the fourth girl in line asked if we wouldn't mind changing our line direction so that everyone could be standing under the awning and sheltered from the snow. I had no qualms with this, but the theater's lobby attendent did. Why, I don't know, but she wanted the line to start by the door furthest from the ticket window. This left everyone who joined the student rush line standing in the snow, except for me. I was dry, but I'll admit, I felt pretty guilty.