How I Snuck into the Late Show

Outside the Ed Sullivan Theater, New York, U.S., 2024

It was my first night in New York City. I was walking up Broadway towards a comedy club when I noticed a crowd of people lined up along the street. There was a buzz in the nighttime air, and the glowing marquee of the Ed Sullivan Theater caught my eye—it was where The Late Show with Stephen Colbert is filmed. People were excitedly chatting and waiting to head inside. Wow, this is where it all happens, I thought. It crossed my mind how cool it would be to see a live taping, but I figured the tickets would already be gone. With that, I continued toward the comedy club around the corner.

The comedy club staff were welcoming—until they noticed my ID. At 20, I wasn’t old enough to get in. I even tried pleading with them to write “underage” on my hand and promised to buy a couple of mocktails, but no luck.

Deflated, I left and found myself wandering aimlessly back toward Broadway. My legs were aching from walking all day, and I’d been so excited to sit down, relax, and have a laugh. With no plans, I decided to head toward Times Square.

But as I passed the crowd outside the Ed Sullivan Theater again, I overheard an older woman ask a staff member how to get tickets. The staff member explained that tickets are free through a website called OneIota, though they’re usually claimed well in advance. She gestured to a QR code on a sign nearby for more information. The woman nodded politely and walked off, but curiosity got the better of me. I paused, pulled out my phone, and scanned the QR code, knowing it would probably be a dead end. My ancient data struggled as I fluffed about on the site, and I was about to leave when I overheard the ticket scanner speaking to two young women at the front of the line.

“I see you’ve got three tickets, but it’s just the two of you?”

“Yeah, our friend couldn’t make it.”

“No problem,” the staff member said, and the two women moved forward into the queue.

I froze. My brain started firing on all cylinders, and my heart raced. Do I do it? I hesitated for what felt like an eternity. It might be weird. They could say no. But what did I have to lose?

Summoning a shred of courage, I approached the two women as they waited in line. “Hi,” I said, a bit nervous. “I overheard that your friend couldn’t make it. Would it be okay if I used their ticket to go in?”

They glanced at each other and shrugged. “Yeah, we don’t see why not!” one of them said, calling over the staff member to ask if I could use the extra ticket.

The staff member, a tall man with a ginger beard and a walkie-talkie, looked hesitant. “We don’t usually allow ticket transfers since they’re tied to a specific name,” he said, and my heart sank. Then he added, “But let me ask my manager.”

My heart jumped with a spark of hope. He spoke into his walkie-talkie, and after a tense minute, he returned with a smile. “It’s fine. Here you go,” he said, strapping a wristband onto me. I couldn’t believe it.

“Thank you so much!” I said to the staff member and afterwards the two women, who smiled as I joined the queue waiting to go into the theater.

Inside the line, the women and I drifted apart, and I struck up a conversation with a well-dressed young man and his mother. He’d studied law at Oxford and had deliberately worn a suit, grinning as he explained, “I heard they pick the well-dressed ones for the front.” His mother mentioned they were originally from Tianjin, and I shared stories from my recent travels in China.

A few minutes later, a staff member came through the line, scanning the crowd. “Are you three a group?” he asked, pointing at me and the mother and son. I didn't know; were we? The staff member ushered us into a smaller line. “I think we’re going to be in the front!” the young man said to me, buzzing. 

They let us inside, taking us to a special room first. “Congratulations, you guys are going to be filling up the front row seats,” the staff member said. My jaw dropped.

When we entered the actual theater, I couldn’t believe my luck—I was in the front row, dead center. The room pulsed with excitement. Before the show started, one of the producers came out and did incredible crowd work. Before the cameras had even started rolling, I was already crying with laughter.

Our view of the show, New York, U.S., 2024

The Harris vs. Trump debate streamed live on the large screen, and the crowd roared with laughter at every absurd moment. It was more entertainment than politics.

After the debate, Stephen Colbert commanded the stage and the night’s episode began. It featured CBS journalist John Dickerson breaking down the Harris vs. Trump debate, and Nigerian singer Tems performed a soulful set. Watching the production live was fascinating. The jokes hit differently in person, with the crowd erupting time and time again. It was surreal.

As I headed back to my hotel that night, I reflected on how the evening had unfolded. What started as a disappointing setback turned into something extraordinary—an unforgettable night I couldn’t have planned if I tried. Sometimes, life surprises you when you least expect it.