When I arrived, I asked the hostess if the restaurant had Wi-Fi. She offered me a code that might have baffled Alan Turing, I opened my lap top. “Oh,” the waitress said, “our connections never work, not even for us.”
This was discouraging. I was meeting Michael at noon, and, at 12:30, Fright and Salvage was putting tickets for Rickie Lee Jones on sale. The Freight’s box office had already said not to expect a phone call to get through, and this seemed like an event to attend, even though, to be truthful, I had no familiarity with Ms. Jones’s work since “Chuck E’s in Love.” I told Michael I might have to leave briefly at 12:20 and walk up to Peet’s.
But I entered the code and connected. This astounded me, not only because of what the waitress had said, but because my usual luck and technical proficiency with computers had left me unable to get on-line at the Wrench Café ever since it had changed its code (“thewrenchh’), while everyone else, from pre-adolescent to those of advanced dotage hopped from site to site and link to link.
At 12:30 I clicked “Get Tickets” and gained entry. I found the seating I preferred. I entered the number I wanted. I entered my password… And Ticket Fly told me I had it wrong. I clicked “Set a New Password.” I set it and returned to complete my purchase. But I had been timed-out and disqualified.
I began again. By now my preferred seats were gone, but I could still get General Admission. Only now I was told both my User Name and Password were unrecognized. My garlic fries had gone cold. The waitress was attempting to remove the last bites of my pan-fried cod sandwich. Enough was enough. I succumbed to God’s will.
Except I didn’t.
Stuck in traffic on the way home, I dialed the box office. Did I want tickets for Rickie Lee Jones? Sure. Did I want preferred seating? No problem.
Now I can find out what she’s been up to since 197-whatever.