My shot -- at 'Hamilton'

An audience member sobbed during my viewing of “Hamilton.”

 Although these were sobs spent during a death scene, they cut through the otherwise silent theater with an absurdity that made the rest of us laugh. What a wacko. Get a grip, lady.

I realize now the woman was likely lamenting the price of her ticket; I’ve seen “Hamilton” orchestra seats commanding four figures on resale websites. I’ve noted price gauging amongst neighbors on Nextdoor.

I said as much to my husband while we were stuck in traffic en route to the San Francisco show last week.

“We could have sold them and had dinner at the French Laundry!” Matt said.

Brag backfired.

I’m proud to say I spent just $100 each for our two balcony seats, but it took some maneuvering and goodwill from a kind co-worker. Months before the online box office opened, three of us in the office agreed to stage a concerted assault on the website the second tickets became available; whoever made it into the website’s inner sanctum would purchase six tickets – the limit – and resell them at face value to the other two. I was No. 77,654 in line, but Traci made good on her word. When Eliza managed to secure her own set of six, Traci sold a second pair at cost to my friend, someone she didn’t even know.

I can’t say if “Hamilton” at San Francisco’s Orpheum Theatre is worth four-figures, but a balcony view of Lin-Manuel Miranda's cultural phenomenon is certainly worth $100. Even Matt was singing “You’ll Be Back” for days afterward; we both agreed Rory O’Malley’s King George commanded the most (and well-deserved) laughs, followed by Jordan Donica’s head-jiggling Thomas Jefferson.

If you go, be prepared for snappy choreography, thought-provoking casting (Those slave-owning Founding Fathers! They’re portrayed by black men! Those breakdancing soldiers! They’re female!) and thunderous applause punctuating the conclusion of each scene. There’s sure to be subtle illusions to America’s current political climate (the line, “Immigrants, we get the job done!” garnered perhaps the loudest applause of the night) and you’ll marvel at the strength of Emmy Raver-Lampman’s Angelica Schuyler and hairdo. Undoubtedly, most of your fellow audience members will sing along with the cast, including middle-aged mothers serenading teenage sons during intermission. I confess to assaulting Matt with a few enthusiastic whispered lines from “My Shot” (“I’m not throwing away my shot!”) during that early scene.

“All these theater nerds, they’ve been listening to the soundtrack on repeat for months,” I sniped during intermission.

“Well, you obviously were too.”

Guilty.