Shit. Lost tickets can't be replaced, you can't buy them on the door, and I didn't have a working printer with which to print out an e-ticket, my only option at this late stage. After searching every corner of my bedroom in case it had blown or flown somewhere, I was grasping at straws with the idea that I might somehow have put it in the recycling by accident.
Our recycling facility is a massive bin with a locked lid out on the main road, into which everything recyclable goes. I had a peep through the slot and was able to recognise objects from our flat; nobody else round here seems to recycle, which usually makes me cross but was now a godsend.
I went back to the flat for some sort of poking device, found a broken curtain rod, and stirred the recycling around while standing on an IKEA step stool because it's a high bin. Against all the odds, I spotted my ticket, but couldn't get it out. I retreated to modify my poking device, pushing a nail into the end in the hope of spiking the ticket. I didn't succeed in this, but I did manage to work it gradually up the inside of the bin until I could reach in and grasp it.
Nobody stopped to ask what was going on during any of this.
The whole operation took about half an hour and isn't an experience I want to repeat. But I had my ticket! I was off to the show!
And that's a whole other post.