Booking fee

January 5, 2009

There are few phrases in the English Language guaranteed to induce such a feeling of downright queasiness as “booking fee”.

This unpleasant euphemism for “daylight robbery” heralds the sound of eager talons clawing hefty chunks out of your bank account. And unless you turn up at the box office window on Tuesday morning at 10am (by which point the event will probably be sold out) there’s no way to avoid it.

So big love to the Old Vic and its chief of staff Kevin Spacey. I was booking a couple of tickets on their website and after heading to the virtual ‘checkout’ I looked to see what the extra damage was. Nothing. Nowt. Nada. Bugger all. No booking fee. No transaction fee. Not even a modest charge for popping the tickets in an envelope and trotting down to one of Waterloo’s fine postboxes.

For the record, we’re off to see Ethan Hawke in The Cherry Orchard. I’m not familiar with the works of Chekov, but I suspect there’ll be rather less opportunity for Ethan to remove his clothes than there was for Josh Hartnett in Rain Man. Still, you can’t have everything. What you save on the booking fee, you lose on the disrobing.

3 Responses to “Booking fee”

  1. Euro Trash Says:

    I actually saw this here with Peter. Its Chekov’s last play and is heavy (shock, horror) but rewarding by the end. Ethan Hawke, although cute is acting REALLY HARD in this, and ends up being somewhat unbelievable. Persist through the first half of this play about buying a human soul, the second half makes everything clear xx

  2. Dan Says:

    When you said that you’d commented on the Chekov post, I have to confess that my first thought was “That’s odd, I don’t remember writing a post about Star Trek.”

    I shall persist. Clothes? Off? Any?

  3. Euro Trash Says:

    Alas, no. Although feel free to picture him in tightie whities. I did!

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