The tickets

Everyone knows how difficult it is to find a ticket this time of the year. People were standing in line for more than three days; there were chaos and a lot of fighting. Sometimes you would hear an incident in the news related to it. I remember when I decided to go for it and be brave and stand in line even though my friend Sacra had already warned me. “ there might be blood’ she screamed, but I was twenty years old and stupid. I put my alarm at five-thirty in the morning and prayed for the best. People already crowded the gate even this early; some were cooking eggs on a gas stove, others curled in a sleeping bag- it was evident that they stayed overnight outside in the cold. 

While I was standing there quite discouraged, I heard a familiar voice “ I can find for both of us a short path” I turned surprised and there he was my long-gone friend Harry. “Harry’” this was what I could only word. “ Yes, it’s me. Now get your stuff, and let’s get out of here”. His voice was stern, like he knew what he was talking about. We took a right turn from the austere building into a dark alley that seemed it never ended. I followed him almost hypnotized while trying to catch my breath; Harry had long legs and was unstoppable. 

Finally, we found a spiral staircase, and without hesitation, we climbed it to the fifth floor of a glistering building and opened the emergency exit. A simple narrow corridor with a couple of doors belonged to what seemed offices in front of us. Harry went straight for the office at the end of it. On the door, there was a sign of the word “Tickets,” which made me reassured about our attempt. 

“Knock on the door, idiot!” Harry whispered in my ear, and I sheepishly did. A man with a fat mustache and a pipe between his lips was starring at us from the wooden desk. There were piles of paper on it and several ashtrays full of cigars. He didn’t say anything, just waved at us with his hand to sit on the leather couch on the other side of the room. He went for the drawer and opened one that made a cranky noise, and dust went all over the place. “ There you are,” he mumbled and took out two pieces of wooden plaques. “ Now this is quite simple,” said the man with the mustache taking a blow from his pipe. “I give you the tickets, and you have to give me something in return.” “Sure, sir, whatever you need,” winked Harry and gave him something small wrapped in a handkerchief. “Only one?” he asked, perplexed. As he was opening the package, I saw something that reminded me of a hand. Now everything started to make sense. I looked Harry in the eyes for a second, and then I pushed the guy down while my friend took the tickets from the ground.

“ Don’t ever do that again!” growled as we were sprinting away from the alley.