On Being Late to the Opera

I'm often late to the opera.  I go frequently - I've had season tickets to the opera for years now, the cheapest seats, balcony side.  I started back at Row S or T, but every year, they move you up to the best open seat for the season (I've finally moved up to Row A).  Naturally, cheaper also means weekday, and it's not always easy to make it in time.  Get off work, get home, change, either fight traffic or hope for the best on BART/Muni.  It's a struggle every time.  I mean, my autobiography could be titled "God, I'm late for the opera again."

Now, I should clarify and say I am usually running late to the opera, but almost always make it. I cut it close all the time - reaching my seat just a minute or two before the start. I'd done it before, ticket takers and ushers reaching urgently out to me, with frantic "come on!" gestures. I've trotted down the marble halls, doors shutting right behind me. Once, I was literally lowering my ass into the seat as the lights were lowered on the stage. There is no closer. I am the master of just barely making it.  It's part of the thrill of the opera for me by now.

A couple of weeks ago was the first opera of the season.  It was heavy misting (on the cusp of drizzling) but traffic looked bad, so I opted for public transit.  Time was tight but nextbus.com said the K would arrive in 5, 7, 10, 15 min, which made me think, great, lots of Muni tonight.  But by the time I was ready to actually leave, my choices were suddenly 10 or 38 minutes.  How the hell did that happen?  The opera started at 7:30pm; it was 6:40pm.  I needed to catch the next one or no cigar.

I did some quick mental math as I slipped on my new black & red (reversible!) vintage 1960's satin coat (flea market find, and fit like it was made for me).  Let's see...the walk from home to the Muni stop was 7 - 8 min, the K ride itself would be probably 30 - 35, and a 5 - 7 min walk from subway stop to opera.  Taking worst case scenarios, that was 8 + 35 + 7 = 50 minutes.  I had...exactly 50 minutes.  It was physically possible.  Off I went.

I did an odd shuffle-run (heels, not used to wearing) and did not see any Muni pass as I approached.  I had made the first hurdle, not missing the one coming in ten minutes!  Except - Muni screwed me, as it does everyone.  Like the refugees in Casablanca waiting for their exit visas, I waited...and waited...and waited.... I started to wonder at what point would I reach a definitive cutoff time, and decide it wasn't worth it and go home instead.  It was just approaching, but not quite - and there was the K.

It wasn't until we stalled on the street soon thereafter that I knew it was all over.  As others have observed, there's a certain freedom that comes from being completely fucked.  You can really relax and let go. It's out of your hands, now, and in God's, or in this case, Muni's.  You can let the universe unfold as it will, and not be attached to the outcome.  Oh, you care - there's still choice and free will and you can decide and make goals and work toward them, yes.  You are not just drifting. You are headed in a direction but also drifting. It's like life surfing.  I wasn't just catching the Muni, I was catching the Muni wave. 

So I knew I would not make the opera in time, and ceased to worry.  The stall went on, but I was carefree.  It was impossible to get there on time.  7:05, 7:10pm and I was still miles away.  Safe.

Then - the worst thing happened. The Muni was freakishly efficient & quick in the tunnel and suddenly I find myself getting off at Van Ness, with 5 full minutes left. 7:25pm. Oh God - just enough!  Can I make it?

I power walk down the street, my buttonless (I believe they called them "clutch") coat flapping rather dramatically in the misty wind, the inner red lining flashing out and making me look far more wealthy than I am.  I hit a stoplight, then two, but I am so close.  So close...the usher takes my ticket.  I breeze by the orchestra level and think I see the lights are still up as the doors shut.  It's four double flights so I wait for the elevator....which takes an actual minute to come, and that's it.  I am stuck standing in the back for the first act of Aida.

I resolve to leave early, and hope the drizzle clears instead of turning into rain...