Leicester Square, as touristy as it was, excited me. Seeing a show in London’s West End was such a treat for me. I loved seeing theater that the United States did not have on Broadway or, better yet, would never get for some reason or other (like Blood Brothers, or We Will Rock You). That day, I wanted to see Billy Elliot, acclaimed in London and unheard of in New York City. Tickets were selling for £25. I could afford that.
“That will be £36.50 please.”
“Um, okay…” reluctantly I handed over my credit card. I didn’t have enough cash. But I didn’t want to argue with him; perhaps all of the £25 tickets had sold out.
