So there I was standing in que, in the near-ending drizzle of rain, aloof to much of the somewhat muffled background on goings, of yells and the constant buzzing of chattering fans mouths. I wanted to be here, yet sometimes the rain just permiates through one's body and it sends me into a status of melancholy. But yes, I did want to be here. It was a match that I was looking foward to with much anticipation and it was bound to be a well fought dueling. In a moment my mind had faded from paying any attention to my surroundings, instead it turned to what I needed to get done the following day at work. So when the gentle nudging stirred me from my thoughts, I turned around abruptly and caught a glimpse of the hand that had touched my upper shoulder so slightly. Instinctually, I followed the hand to the face. A man dressed in a 3 button coat cut suit was at the end of the my startlement. He did seem a bit overdressed for the occasion, but then I have never objected to seeing a man dressed quite formally in a well cut suit. I saw his face again, and noticed that this time he too, was staring at me and again I reacted with a double-take of the situation. I gave him a soft smile and he mirrored my reaction with a smile that was somewhat crooked on one-side but still strong in its outward manner. "Sorry Miss." "Miss." Sorry Miss." I quickly turned again toward the new voice. "Ticket please." "Oh yes. Yes. Sorry. Here it is, sorry", I said as I handed him the ticket. I made a quick look over my shoulder and noticed that my former shoulder-tapper in the nice suit jacket was gone. I quickly scanned the separate lines and noticed that he had been redirected to a new que several lines over. "Oh well", I thought as I took a quick step forward. "Miss, I think you dropped that envelope on the ground and that gentleman that was here before was trying to get your attention about it", said a younger boy on the side of me. I bent down to pick up the familiar envelope. "So glad I didn't lose this", I thought to myself. Once the envelope was in my hand, I opened it and rechecked the contents to make sure my ticket was still there. With that ticket, I still had options for the night incase my "in" to this tennis tournament didn't work out. A friend of mine had offered to get me a ticket into this tournament for the day but had mistakenly also offered it to the father of an aquaintance who was in town for the weekend. She gave me the ticket temporarily in hopes that her mistake would be smoothed over by the overbookings of a tourists schedule. But there was still the catch, that if he did actually show up at the front gates in two hours from now, that I would give up the ticket. "Oh blah!" I stated, as my still recovering skin felt the new onset of a light rain. Not that I didn't love rain, but with the rain meant once again that the matches to be played would of course be delayed to some extent. As I looked at the sign that confirmed my own thoughts of the situation, that indeed the next match had been delayed by rain, I realized that my only consulation would be to just walk around and take in all of the ambiance. A real professional tennis tournament. Oh course this was huge for me. I loved tennis. I hated it at eleven when my parents used to make my sister and I get up early on saturday morning and take lessons at the local recreation center. But years later, I was hooked not only by playing the sport but by watching the athleticism of the professionals who played. As I looked at the giantic round wall clock, I realized that play hadn't started back up and that I had a dilema here. I wanted to watch the matches so greatly, but I would have to make my way back to the gates as I had promised to see if the originally intended ticket holder, (remember the father of my friends friend) had indeed shown up. I was assured in our last conversation together that the likehood of him showing up with all the rain would be quite slim. So, I still had hopes of a good seat and money still in my pocket as well as a ticket that would get me into all the matches not just one. Having arrived at the Will Call box, I asked the attendant if a Mr. Ralph Watts had come looking for a ticket yet. "Let me check for you Miss", the attendant replied. "Why yes Miss, Mr. Watts did come to 'Will Call' for a ticket." My high hopes were instantly dashed of course by this sudden news. "Here is the ticket", I said as I somewhat reluctantly handed over the ticket. Just as I turned to walk towards the exit, I heard the voice overhead announce play would begin in the next few minutes and then I heard a paige for Mr. Watt to come to retrieve the excitement causing ticket. Well, I still had the ticket in my hand for the concert tonight. The concert was set at the park near Hampstead Heath. It was set to begin at dusk and I had really been looking forward to it. However now, I felt a sense of high disappointment because I was just about to leave the tennis club.