“Thank you for being my light in the darkness.†– Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
The sky was darkening and just starting to spit some rain as Andy and I walked from the train station to the edge of Times Square, where the Muse Hotel had rolled out a proverbial red carpet for our arrival. Andy had made the reservations, being a longtime fan of Kimpton properties, and they did not disappoint, either in customer service or elegant accommodations.
A bottle of wine and cozy cheese platter made for a delicious snack later in the evening, but after a quick siesta it was off to an early dinner at Joe Allen.
Our tickets for ‘Harry Potter and the Cursed Child’ and the subsequent barrage of e-mails indicated to arrive at the theater no later than 6:30 PM, which seemed excessively early for a 7:30 start time, but they were so insistent and adamant that all attendees be there we scheduled an obscenely-early dinner. I had a Caesar salad and a hamburger, keeping things as casual as possible for Andy, who preferred such a scene to a big fancy extravaganza. Given the touchy weather, I was fine with comfort food and casual wear as well.
We shared a very-high slice of banana cream pie, as one does with a sweet husband, and then it was time to get in line.
We are still annoyingly-unaware as to why we had to be there so early, only to be told to wait before they even opened the doors, but once they started moving the line dissipated quickly. Then we waited in the circular lobby for the theatre doors to open.
I’ve already given my review here, so I won’t waste time reiterating it – but the end of Part 1 left us feeling magical (and me only slightly frightened by visions of dementors dancing in my head)…
