I had tickets for the Saturday night performance of the Nutcracker. Unfortunately, the Little Angel woke up with a fever, so I decided to change the tickets to the following Saturday. (At the time, I thought the way was clear for everyone else; later, I learned that Kritter had a conflict, but that's a whole different story.) I was told to fax my request by noon, and someone would call me. By 1:30, I was getting panicky -- are we going to the ballet tonight or not?? -- so I called again. The conversation went like this:

I have four tickets in will-call for tonight's performance, but we have a sick kid. I faxed my request to change my tickets from tonight to next Saturday, but I haven't heard anything.

I can help you with that. Hold, please. [Nutcracker music.] Okay, I can help you now. Name?

I spell both names.

Could it be under any other name?

No.

Hold, please. [Nutcracker music] Do you have a confirmation number?

No.

Hold, please. [Nutcracker music.] Do you have the tickets?

No, they're in will-call. I said this in my fax.

Oh, I see. Hold, please. [Nutcracker music]

Ma'am, the person who is working on this is on the phone. Could I get your name and I'll have her call you back?

My name is still the same as the one I just gave you.

They just handed me your form, and yes, you are confirmed for four tickets for tonight's performance. You can pick them up at....

As I said in my fax, and again in this call, I'm trying to exchange tonight's tickets for next week because we have a sick child.

Oh, I can help you with that. Hold, please. [Nutcracker music.]

Eventually, she did exchange the tickets, but it took 34 minutes on the phone to do it, and both my Christmas spirit and my love of The Nutcracker Suite were stretched pretty thin by the time we were through.

On the bright side, I now know that if I ever lose my job, I won't have to be a greeter at Wal-Mart. I'm pretty sure I can handle ticket sales at the Houston Ballet!