It was going to be our last Valentine’s Day “date night” as a married couple. Â We were going to attend a special film screening. Â Sophia’s former boss was unable to make it, so he gave the tickets to us. Â The tickets would be waiting at the box-office in his name.
When we arrived at the arts center complex, the parking lot was jammed.  We followed the crowd into the main auditorium building, and waited on the line.  We approached the will-call window at the box office. The hipster attendant was wearing a fedora.
“I’m picking up two tickets. Â The name should be for Roger Green,” said Sophia.
The attendent rifled through his tickets.
“I don’t see any tickets for Roger Green,” he said.
“It must be there,” said Sophia. “He left it at the box office under his name. Roger Green.”
The attendent clicked on the keyboard, the computer screen reflecting in his eyes.
“I don’t see any tickets for Roger Green.”
The other patrons on the line were getting antsy.
“Maybe he put it in your name,” I said.
Sophia gave me a glance that meant, “let me handle this.”
The attendant’s manager appeared. Â She was an older woman in a business suit.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“There are supposed to be two tickets here left by Roger Green,” Sophia repeated.
“Maybe we should call Roger…” I started to say, until Sophia gave me the look again, and I stepped back.
The manager double-checked her list.
“I don’t see any tickets for Roger Green.”
Sophia took out her iPhone.
“OK, I’ll call Roger. But he’s not going to be happy to be bothered. Â He’s a big donor to the arts center.”
The manager and the fedora-wearing attendant exchanged nervous looks.
“Listen, I’m sure it is just a computer glitch,” said the manager. “Take these two tickets and enjoy the show.”
She handed us two tickets, the best seats in the house.
Sophia and I entered the auditorium. Â We really did have the best seats in the house. Â But something seemed odd. Â Instead of a movie screen, the stage was set up with furniture, decorated like a suburban living room. I glanced at the pamphlet that we were given by the usher.
We were in the wrong building of the arts center complex, and about to see a play. Â The film screening was next door.
“What should we do?” I asked.
“We can’t leave now.” replied Sophia. Â “It’s too embarrassing.”
And the play was really good.
And so, this was the last Valentine’s Day of our marriage. Â It was much like our own marriage, an experience filled with laughter and confusion, of walking into the wrong theater, and making it work until the show was over.