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Since God of Carnage did, in fact, win that prestigious award just a week before I decided to get standing-room-only tickets for it, I knew I'd have to get to the theater early. (It's one of those pesky shows that doesn't offer a student rush. Excuuuse me!) Thanks to a summer Fridays policy at my work, I was able to arrive at the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre at 3:45 p.m. (standing tickets go on sale two hours prior to the performance). I was the first on line, and thus, felt pretty confident in my chances of getting a ticket. I had asked the box office attendant where we standing-room hopefuls should line up. I always think that's a smart way to go; it's better than having them rearrange the line later because you've all formed in the wrong place. Not long after I took my place outside the theater, about 25 people joined me in line, and over the course of two hours, we experienced The Rush of Dumb Questions. "Are you in line?" a woman asked no one in particular in our linear formation. "Are you waiting for tickets?" a woman queried me (being at the head of the line also has its disadvantages). The taker has to be the woman who asked, "What are you waiting for?" Me: "Standing room tickets." Woman: "So you stand?" (pause) Me: "Yes." Don't they read this blog?? But all was made better when a very enthusiastic, possibly homeless man (who am I to assume?) answered a young couple who asked him if the show offered marked-down tickets. "This show doesn't have discounts! Do you know how many Tonys they won??" At 6:10 p.m. (a little late), the box office attendant ushered us into the lobby. I purchased my standing room ticket for $26.50 (you can buy up to two) and "prepared myself for the chaos and the carnage," as the theater usher would ask me, deadpanned, later when I took my spot for the performance.