![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaydeefalls
I had exactly two big things planned for this weekend, both of which I was very excited about. The first being a dance class on Saturday, and the second being a free ticket to this awesome Improv competition-type-thingy called TheaterSports.
Made it to the dance place on time and with class card. The class was canceled.
Abandoned a great RPG to get to TheaterSports on time (I was supposed to meet some people early, to get my ticket). Couldn't find theater. Assumed I had written address down wrong. Spent half an hour wandering around Times Square in the cold, asking everyone I saw if they knew where TheaterSports was. No one did. Some nice bloke actually let me use his cell phone to call information. Information couldn't find the address. Made my way to the TKTS board (info on all theaters). TKTS guy didn't know. Finally wound up in Times Square Visitor Information Center, which is a horrible horrible blow to my pride as a native New Yorker. Found the theater address. It was the same address I'd started out with. Fuckers. SPRINTED the seven blocks back to the supposed theater. It DOESN'T FUCKING EXIST. Address is 342. There is a parking garage (330) right next to a store (346). There IS NO 342. And now I'm late, anyway. So I came back home.
0 for 2. This weekend has been a big fat fucking failure. I need hobbits, now.
Made it to the dance place on time and with class card. The class was canceled.
Abandoned a great RPG to get to TheaterSports on time (I was supposed to meet some people early, to get my ticket). Couldn't find theater. Assumed I had written address down wrong. Spent half an hour wandering around Times Square in the cold, asking everyone I saw if they knew where TheaterSports was. No one did. Some nice bloke actually let me use his cell phone to call information. Information couldn't find the address. Made my way to the TKTS board (info on all theaters). TKTS guy didn't know. Finally wound up in Times Square Visitor Information Center, which is a horrible horrible blow to my pride as a native New Yorker. Found the theater address. It was the same address I'd started out with. Fuckers. SPRINTED the seven blocks back to the supposed theater. It DOESN'T FUCKING EXIST. Address is 342. There is a parking garage (330) right next to a store (346). There IS NO 342. And now I'm late, anyway. So I came back home.
0 for 2. This weekend has been a big fat fucking failure. I need hobbits, now.
