Young Frankenstein & Fire & Delays. What a Great Night.

Thursday morning I receive a text from a friend in town interviewing for jobs. Suzanne asks I want to attend a Broadway show that night, and I tell her it has to be cheap. Then I get one back saying it’s her treat since she already bought the tickets.

Young Frankenstein. 8 o’clock.

One’s first Broadway show is a bit overwhelming. I’m not sure where the theatre is or what to wear. My roommate Allison (who works in fashion) suggests shirt and tie, but no coat. I arrive at the theatre to find I’m a bit overdressed compared to the rest of the crowd. However, I’m fine with this. It’s theatre. One should dress up. I wore a suit to the Shakespeare Festival back in Alabama, so Broadway should warrant at least a tie, no matter where you call home. At least I’m looking like a slack jawed yokel like the guy next to me. Shorts? Sneakers? Jersey? And the rest of the country looks down on Southerners. At least I can tie a tie.

Once settled into our seats, we begin the wait for the show. Someone comes out on stage and informs us they are having computer problems and asks for 10 minutes. Suzanne and continue chatting, sometimes with a thick New York accent sporting woman next to us. The same man comes out and asks for 10 or 15 more minutes. A transformer on the street is causing problems.

During this wait, Suzanne and I are asked a question you never want to hear in a theatre: “Does it smell like something is burning?” our neighbor asks us. Unfortunately, it does. The fire alarms do go off temporarily. (Cue “yelling ‘fire’ in a crowded theatre” joke.) Suzanne then notices the theatre is smoky. No one is leaving, so we don’t either. I guess we’re those people who stay behind during natural disasters assuming the best. (At least we’d get interviews on CNN… if we survived.)

As it turns out, the kabob stand in front of the theatre has caught fire and filled the building with smoke. At least it’s not us. This may be why the monster is so afraid of fire. It really makes things happen later than intended. Suzanne and the temporary neighbor assure me this is not normal. This has never happened, and they’ve both been to dozen of shows. I guess they don’t realize I think this is fantastic. This is a great first Broadway experience, because I have a story for parties. I’m an English major. I live for that.

Finally, they ask for a few more minutes and the show starts around 8:45.

The show is great, though I, as a Broadway virgin, have nothing to which I can compare it. The sets are huge and beautiful and fast changing, and the cast is funny and can sing. Igor certainly steals the show. (The song "He Was My Boyfriend" is still stuck in my head.)

In the end, Broadway may be overpriced and Times Square an unholy tourist ridden hell hole, but it’s worth it. Just make sure the kabob cart out front is fire proof.