For Sale: One Soul, in Exchange for Hamilton Tickets
I’m ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter.
Don’t be shocked when your hist’ry book mentions me
I will lay down my soul if you give me money
Eventually, I will see this musicality
Salutations rich doctors, rich lawyers, pimps, drug kingpins, Russian oligarchs, the ghost of Philip Schuyler, whoever invented post-it notes, Ben, Jerry, Oprah, Mark Zuckerberg, Queen Elizabeth II, Queen Elizabeth II’s corgis, Daddy Warbucks, Jay Gatsby, and Beyoncé,
You have money. Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of money.
I have a soul.
How about we trade?
To redeem my soul, I needn’t posses all your money. Rather, I’ll settle for an extremely modest $1,890. This is the price of one (1) orchestra center ticket to see Hamilton: An American Musical when the show finally blesses my local theater with its presence in January 2019.
(Alternatively, I’ll also consider $525, the price of a second-tier balcony side-view seat. I won’t sell my soul for this, but I am willing to part with all memories of my friends and loved ones. Plus, my toaster.)
Now, I know that you usually spend your hard-earned cash on yourself, your company, your beloved charities, or little orphan Annie. Not theater tickets for some random young lady in Pittsburgh. Hence, why I’m sweetening the deal with my soul.
A disclaimer: My soul is a modest one, not particularly enlightened. And I’m Jewish, so some may say it’s going to hell.
But my soul is sweet. Caring. Optimistic. My soul likes Carly Rae Jepsen music, can make a scrumptious crustless veggie quiche, and flosses and moisturizes twice daily. My soul is young, scrappy, and hungry. It’s a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal, trying to reach my spirit’s goal of seeing Hamilton: An American Musical.
Perhaps you could use my soul to cook you breakfast in bed, publish your Snapchat stories, or nanny your children. Perhaps it’ll come in handy in case of a robot, zombie, or Steve Bannon uprising. It could serve as your second in a duel to the death!
My soul could go back to France for more guns. And ships. And so, the balance shifts. It could rendezvous with Rochambeau, consolidate their gifts. My soul can end this war at Yorktown, cut them off at sea.
But for this to succeed, there is something else I need:
Hamilton tickets!
Please, buy me Hamilton tickets. Do it. Hamilton tickets. Now.
History has its eyes on you. Who lives, who dies, who lets me experience Hamilton glory?
