Rob says:

Broken turn signal, broken clutch lever (I just went to BMW and paid $157 for a replacement to make the cycle rideable while I wait for the insurance adjuster to call), damaged front fender, damaged hand guard, damaged exhaust pipe, and shredded cover. That’s what I can see at the moment. I’m going over to replace the lever and start it up.

Rob signed up for the virtual ticket line last night and, much to our surprise, won tickets to the show. We’re going after all.

Just in case you don’t know about the virtual line:

While the majority of Free tickets for Shakespeare in the Park are distributed via the Free line at the Delacorte Theater, a limited number of tickets will be available the day of each performance online. Specific locations for senior and handicapped accessible seats are not available through the virtual ticket line.

Register anytime at PUBLICTHEATER.ORG and then log on between midnight and 1PM on the day of the performance you want to see to submit a request for up to two tickets. You must log-on again between 1PM-6PM to see if you have been selected to receive a pair of tickets. People are chosen at random, not in the order requests are received.

Rob and I left the apartment at the same time today, which is a rare occurrence. I kissed him goodbye, got on the train and he headed off to ride his motorcycle.

When I got off the train, my phone rang. Rob.

He rarely calls me, so I had a sinking sensation. “Hi. What’s wrong?”

“Someone hit my motorcycle.”

I had a moment of no breath.

“It was tipped over when I got to it. [Some technical term] is broken and the [other term] is bent.”

And just like that, I could breathe again. He hadn’t been on the bike. I don’t worry when he’s outside town, but in the city is another matter. I made some sound that meant, “Holy crap, that’s awful but I’m glad you were nowhere near it when it happened.”

Rob continued, “So, I’ll have to deal with insurance today and probably won’t be able to stand in line for tickets to Hamlet. I just wanted to let you know. I’m sorry. If I finish up, I’ll try but–”

“Don’t worry about it. No Shakespeare tonight.”

Do you see the kind of man I married? His very expensive toy is broken and his first thought is to apologize to me that we can’t go see a play.

Meanwhile, I’m sure he’s furious about someone hitting and leaving his bike. Our insurance company is pretty good, but this is a hassle that the poor boy does not need.