I am the Ticketmaster.
At least, that’s what Jen called me today when I was collecting money from friends in preparation for buying movie tickets for everyone.
Now I have ten glossy cinema passes in my purse, and they all say “New Moon” on them.
Unfortunately, they also say “Saturday”. Two whole days away. There’s a big, silly part of me that wishes I was standing with the crazy crowd waiting to see it at midnight tonight. Some of them were already camped out in front of the theater when I stopped at the box office at 5pm. They didn’t have capes and fangs on–at least not yet. But I bet the crowd that’s out there now is chock full of pale Edwards and dark-haired Jacobs and clumsy Bellas. And I can just imagine the cheering and woohoo-ing that will be taking place in the packed theater later.
Yeah, I’d like to be there. But I’m not going to complain.
Because the Ticketmaster isn’t a whiner.