On the desk in my bedroom, there is a silver picture frame.
Let me be more specific. The frame is brushed steel, with a gold border that gives way to glass and a teal matte. It has black velvet backing. There is an inscription on the frame.
There is no photo in the frame. But it’s not empty, either. In the frame, there are two tickets to the National Theatre, located at 1321 Pennsylvania Avenue.
The tickets are for Les Miserables, a musical about the French Revolution. This past October, “Les Mis” celebrated its 20th year running. Showtime is 8:00 PM, June 25th, 1999. Tickets for an evening show cost a mere thirty-five dollars. Equivalent tickets today would cost eighty dollars.
The frame came with one ticket, as a birthday gift from this past June. I dug the second ticket out of a box that I unpacked today. I put the second ticket in the frame a few hours ago.
June 25th, 1999 is a Friday, three days before the full moon in June. It’s also the eve of my twenty-fourth birthday celebrated over six years ago.
I don’t remember much of the weather that night. My guess, is that it’s a warm, moist night in the District. I do remember being excited about Les Mis. The tickets, as well as the night out, are a gift from my friends, who are just about as excited to see the show as I am.
To be honest, I don’t remember much about the show at all. Except for the revolving stage. Circular movement, I remember that pretty clearly.
It is interesting to note that there are a total of one thousand six hundred seventy six seats in the National Theatre.
There are three hundred forty-six balcony seats.
Balcony right contains one hundred thirty seats.
I’m in J2, which is an aisle seat.
Two rows in front of me, in better seats, are my ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend.
The passage of time does remarkable things to the perception of an event. Thinking on this moment at this point in time doesn’t bring the same emotions that it once did. I would describe the comparison as “remarkably dissimilar.”
When I put the second ticket in, I moved the frame to my desk. I’m looking at it now.
The inscription on the frame reads, “They have only gotten better.”
When I look upon it, I realize that things have not only gotten better—they’ve gotten a hell of a lot funnier.
And I can’t help but laugh.
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