The mysteriously spellbinding choose-your-own-adventure show Sleep No More is turning out to be the most buzzed-about theatrical production of the year. Tickets for this immersive, three hour curiosity are going fast—no small feat, considering they cost $75 a pop. We're not allowed to give the show a proper review yet, and we're loathe to spoil its innumerable surprises, but there are a few pro tips you should keep in mind in order to help you get your money's worth.

  • Wear comfortable shoes: There are plenty of places to sit and let it all sink in, but Sleep No More is so fascinating, you probably won't want to. Unfolding on three floors an old abandoned hotel in west Chelsea, all the action unfolds at once, so you could experience a dozen times and never see the same show twice. Be prepared to be on your feet and explore.
  • Bring cash: There's a swank little cabaret and bar area that stays open throughout the performance. Drinks start at $8 (hello, little overpriced glass of wine) and it's cash only. There is an ATM back down in the lobby, but guess how much the service charge is? $4.50, fuckyouverymuch. You're over on the far west side, and there isn't any other ATM option nearby, and the show's about to start, so if you want to drink, byo cash.
  • Get blazed: A friend who experienced Sleep No More before we did advised getting some drinks under our belts before venturing in. Fine advice, but this far out experience seems more conducive to pre-gaming with Panama Red or Purple Haze. With its spooky lighting, impeccable sound design, and complete freedom of movement, Sleep No More practically begs for puff the magic dragon. In the immortal words of Otto the bus driver, you don't need need drugs to enjoy this—just to enhance it!
  • Get lost: Talking is forbidden during Sleep No More—a crucial rule that lets the magical atmosphere take hold without interruption. But if you're attending with a friend, there can be a temptation to try and coordinate your decisions about where to go and what to see. Forget that. Agree to lose each other. As communal as the experience is, it's fundamentally an isolated one, so don't get hung up sticking with your companion. Follow your own whims. You'll surely encounter each other again in places where you least expect it, and at the end you'll have two separate stories to swap.
  • Lose the eyeglasses: Before you enter what the performers refer to as "the experience," you're handed a white Guy Fawkes-esque mask, which all spectators are required to wear as long as they're outside the bar area. Aesthetically, it's a terrific idea, and helps discourage any forbidden chatter during the performance. But there's just one problem: If you wear eyeglasses, the masks simply don't work; they're uncomfortable and cut off your nasal passages unless you tilt them in such away that you can barely see. Either forgo the specs, wear contact lenses, or maybe try convincing them to let you wear your own, eyeglass-friendly headpiece.