Watch TV shoes... Ahem: for free

It was a Thursday, as I recall, cold, windy but tolerable in my giant coat.  I was drifting in thoughts as I walked by the Ed Sullivan Theater... A giant, unmissable sign read: "Late Show with David Letterman..." And I admit, I was excited.  I took a picture.  I do that.  Often.

There was a line of people there.  (They are in the picture).  I wondered: "what, pray tell, are they doing there."  I'm not sure why I wondered that, because I had a pretty good idea: they were there to watch Letterman.  Let's face it: I was pretty sure they weren't there to watch a Burlesque.  

I asked someone in line: "what, pray tell, are you doing here."  That day I was utilizing the underutilized "pray tell" verbiage all day as a gag... That no one liked or even understood.  And I got an answer I did.  They were in line to see Letterman... And they didn't pay a dime. "They are indeed artful consumers!" I yelled with glee.

So I inquired how to see the show, as my story goes.  I was told: come back!  "Come back, my dear friend!"  (This whole memory unfolds like Broadway in my mind for some reason).  I was then directed to the times:

On Saturday I came back and was excited... I talked with the friendlies inside about my wasted life of comedy.  (I thought they cared, but they didn't.  Sniff).  I signed, put my friends name down as a guest... And expected that was the end of that.  These things don't actually happen to some blerg that just moved from Tampa to the big city.

On Sunday, I received a Voice Mail directing me to call back if I wanted to watch Letterman.  On Monday I was in the seats.  Minus my friend, who had to take off.  My friends do that.  Maybe I'm embarrassing to be around.

And what did I pay?  $495.39.

Just kidding:  it was free.

And quite awesome I might add.  I would show you pictures from inside, but I didn't take any, that's illegal. ;-)

Stay safe, my apple dumplings.

Timmy