Drama Queen

Look at this. Isn't it pretty?

That's a ticket to the ballet at the Bolshoi Theater for tomorrow night. Except you know if you have been following this saga that the Bolshoi is closed for reconstruction and is never, ever going to open again at this rate. So where is this performance taking place, you may ask? At what is called the New Stage next door.

For the record, it is very easy to get tickets to performances. You can select and pay for tickets using the Bolshoi website (www.bolshoi.ru/en/). You print out a copy of the receipt and take that and the credit card you used to the ticket office and collect the actual tickets.

I did this last night while Baboo was at fencing class. I wasn't exactly sure where the ticket office was, but figured I'd just wander around the complex (which is big) until I found the right place. If that didn't work, I still had two days to research it.

The receipt I printed said "Kasse One" (kasse, just as in German, means cashier). I found the Bolshoi Management Building and on it was a sign that said something about tickets. And in front of it was a HUGE sea of people who all seemed to be waiting to get in.

Rats.

Waiting in endless lines while unsure if I am even in the right place is not this girl's idea of fun. But I found myself sort of falling in behind two babushka types who just walked through the throng and into the building. "When in Rome . . ." I decided and went along with them.

Which turned out to be the right thing to do.

I don't know what all those people were doing standing outside the office. But inside there were several windows. To my left I saw Kasse 1 and Kasse 2 and what appeared to be two lines. Since the old ladies headed straight for the window at Kasse 1, I followed along. But a Formidable Battle Ax in line stopped me and said, in Russian, "Eh, eh, eh! The line forms to the rear, sister!"

Oops. My bad.

I went to the end of the line (which was blocked by a pillar) and there was greeted by a sunny smile from FBA and a nervous-looking Japanese man who was clutching his receipt and credit card.

"Are we good?" FBA asked me.

"Oh, da." I said, just relieved to be in what appeared to be the right place. "BFF," and I fist-bumped her. No, not really. Should I have?

I watched Japanese Guy hand the woman at Kasse 1 his receipt and credit card. She handed him tickets. Then I did the same with the same results.

Hurray! Victory is mine.

But how to get into the theater on Friday night?

I walked around the building until I found what appears to be the right entrance. I later looked at the Bolshoi website and found this map of the complex that confirms what I thought. I offer it here to you as a Helpful Aid to Happy Theater Going.

Now, speaking of theater, it seems Yours Truly has been cast as Madame Briquet in a hastily-hastily-thrown-together production of Jack (Lui! 1897) a Grand-Guignol play by French playwright Oscar Méténier to be performed on the Occassion of Halloween, November 1. In a truly horrific moment, I realized I have LINES to learn and only a week in which to learn them.

In other news, the Young Skittles has elected to attend un stage multi sports (basket, natation, foot, footing et judo) for the first week of the Toussaint holiday. Okaaaaaay. Best I can determine, it's

• A week away
• With friends
• Including swimming

All of which she considers good things. The basketball, soccer, jogging, and judo apparently are inconsequential to her. Anyhow, the stage is ten kids between the ages of 9 and 13 and one Very Kid-Friendly Anatoly. As long as it doesn't devolve into some sort of Franco-Russian Lord of the Flies, it should be alright.

I'll report back as soon as I hear anything.