First of all, you would have to have a ticket! No entrance tickets to Colosseum survive, but we do have examples from elsewhere - a ticket would be a small token of wood, bone or lead, marked with the number of the block of the Colosseum, the level and finally the row number. We don't actually know how they were distributed: Beard and Hopkins suggest that perhaps you would get a ticket from your patron or - if you were a member of a club or a society, for instance, a funerary one or a priestly one - you could get it from there.
A couple of caveats there: although the size of the building changed due to its unfortunate tehdency to burn down, by 354 AD our sources say that about 87 000 people could fit into the Colosseum. More plausible guesses put the number of spectators to about 50 000: even at average seat space of 40 cm (!) per person, it would be hard to cram in more people. This means that since the city of Rome at its height is usually said to have had more than one million inhabitants, it would be quite hard for you to get a spot in the amphiteatre. We are also not quite clear whether the Colosseum was actually used every day: Carpoccino guesses that there were about 93 shows per year, while Beard and Hopkins point out that according to a fourth-century calendar, out of the 176 days devoted to 'holidays', just ten days were devoted to gladiatorial games. Hopkins, in general, is very skeptical of how often these took place and would suggest that perhaps for most of the year Colosseum was used (and I quote) 'as a place to flog your wares, take a nap, sight-see or make a pick-up': but note here three points. First, even if gladiatorial combat was rarer across the empire, Rome and the Colosseum was likely to be exceptional as the seat of the empire: second, not every occasion that took place in the Colosseum was gladiatorial combat, and we'll come back to that shortly - and finally, there was plenty of exceptional occasions that merited the use of the Colosseum, for instance during Trajan's celebratory year of 108-9, where it hosted performances almost one day out of five. Note that during its opening in 80 AD, the games were supposed to last a hundred days (!).
As for the schedule, most historians would agree that there was a fairly regular one: you would get morning animal hunts, midday executions (some of them being ingenious mythological recreations - for this, see Martial, De Spectaculis, who has some charming accounts of deadly reenactments of the myths of Prometheus or Orpheus), and then in the afternoon the gladiators. Beard and Hopkins importantly note that this was not a given and that we have stitched this program together from various references in ancient writers removed from each other by genre and time. Likely, the schedule depended as much as on this anticipation of a regular arrangement as on the element of surprise: 'the games must have been the same and different each time'. Early on, the Colosseum probably hosted a couple of naval battles, although evidence for this is disputed: Martial also harps on about this quite a bit, because it part of his larger theme of imperial power bending the limits of nature. As to the animal hunts, a certain professor once described them to us as 'David Attenborough, but they kill them all at the end', and I think that's a very eloquent way to sum it up, since these were displays as much as hunts. There were some notable exceptions to this short lifespan of the animals: there is a fun theory that there was a particular rhinoceros, who acquired something of a celebrity status during the reign of Titus and Domitian, since he is mentioned in Martial and commemorated on some coins of Domitian, but it is not as if we can prove that one way or the other.
Maybe you have friends in your funerary society and they come along with you: it will be probably an entirely male affair, since the Augustan Lex Iulia Theatralis imposed some quite rigid laws on where everyone should sit in an amphitheater, which created and recreated a hierarchical paradigm of elements within the Roman society and how they relate to each other. Women were consequently consigned to the very back seats of the Colosseum, except for the Vestal Virgins: so either they did not go, since this was where the rabble sat, or - if they were elite women - they probably went and sat in the front anyway, since we have Ovid in Ars Amatoria commending gladiatorial presentations in the Forum (with temporary seating - not Colosseum!) as an ideal occasion for young men to meet and seduce women. Same applies for the slaves: officially, they could not sit in the front, but it is hard to imagine Roman aristocrats attending without some assistance, since - for instance - the canopies that were put up from the edges of the Colosseum to provide shade did not extend into the centre where they were, so they probably at least had someone holding a little parasol over them. You and your friends were therefore assigned certain seats within this paradigm, which mirrored your social situation and went to them orienting yourself by your ticket, which also included a number of the exit you needed to go through: the Colosseum had a quite complex system of crowd control, and all of them were numbered. It was a social event: Beard and Hopkins notes that the elite in the front seats would meet their friends there, chatting about alliances, marriages or promotions. You went there to see, but also to be seen. This was also the point of all the hierarchical seating since the Colosseum intentionally created something of a microcosm of the Roman society - any spectator was watching the show, but you would also keep an eye on other and on how they watched it. The emperor, in particular, was something people looked at - Suetonius frequently uses the way emperors watched the Games to make a point about what sort of people they were and how they related to the people, with Augustus watching attentively and even sending substitutes for when he could not attend, and Caligula storming out of the shows in rage.
As for your meal, you could do either. Emperors could and did on occasions provide food for the people in the Colosseum: Statius has Domitian distribute a banquet among the crowds in the Colosseum to celebrate the Saturnalia, with servants flooding in with baskets and some of the cakes and fruits even suspended above spectators by rope. We know people ate at Colosseum: there were fountains as far as the second floor, providing water, and people brought with them braziers to cook on. Archaeologists have found shells from clams, fruit pits as well as small bones of various animals that all indicate that people were happily snacking and eating within the Colosseum during the imperial period.
For primary sources, key is Martial, De Spectaculis. Statius on Domitian's feast is in De Silvae, 1.6, and there is also a letter by Seneca (number 7) on lunchtime executions. Suetonius incidentally tells us quite a bit about games and the emperors, although you'll have to sift through it. Same goes for Cassius Dio and bits of Pliny. Note that we have to extrapolate a bit, as I did when using evidence from the Forum for the Colosseum: this is because we do not have that much evidence for the building itself.
For secondary sources, I highly recommend Keith Hopkins and Mary Beard, The Colosseum from 2005. A classic, although very dated, is Daily Life in Ancient Rome: The People and the City at the Height of the Empire by Jérôme Carcopino from 1936 - note it does not have the sort of archaeological underpinning we have today. For mythological executions, key is Kathleen M. Coleman,“Fatal Charades: Roman Executions Staged as Mythological Enactments”, in JRS 80 (1990). I also used Food and Drink in Antiquity: A Sourcebook, by John F. Donahue (2015) and the permanent exhibition in the Colosseum itself.
So I thought I’d answer this one in a semi-narrative approach drawing on different sources to give a flavour of what an “average” day was like in the Colosseum from the perspective of a random punter. Specifically a punter who is living in Rome in 81 AD, during the reign of the emperor Titus. I may have to go back and edit some of it if it’s a bit incoherent but il try my best to remain historically accurate, here is the long tale:
You meet up with your friends in the Forum nearby, which is packed with spectators from across the empire all here to see the spectacle (contemporary poet Martial describes crowds from across the empire flocking to Rome to see the games). The emperor Titus, to inaugurate the opening of the Colosseum (then known as the Flavian Amphitheatre), is holding 100 successive days of games to honour the completion of the stadium.
You arrive early in the morning to get your seats, we’re not sure exactly how seating was assigned but women and slaves were at the back, free men in the middle, whilst seats at the front were reserved for Senators, Equestrians and the Vestal Virgins. The Emperor himself has his own box, and today you see him sat with the other members of the imperial family as well as some other senators he has invited to join him (more on them later). You arrive just in time to watch the days proceedings open, this was with a pompa, a procession that included some political and religious elements as well as a parade of some of the performers. The lictors would appear first, followed by tubicines (trumpet players) to welcome everyone with fanfare and pomp (hence the name pompa!) and then people carrying images of the gods to emphasise the religious aspect (Tertullian, on Spectacles + a wall relief from Pompeii).
The events begin with an announcement of the schedule of today’s games - you already knew a bit about what was going to happen today because posters (called libelli) were put up around the city, as well as graffiti on the walls detailing the schedule (which can be seen at Pompeii for example). Now in the arena itself a herald announces today’s performances, whilst placards circulate to reiterate the information and for other special announcements from the editor (the person who paid for the games, in this case the emperor Titus himself).
The first phase of the games are the venatio, wild beast hunts, which took part in the morning. Lions, tigers, bears, rhinos, elephants, all sorts of exotic animals are hunted; they seem to appear out of the ground as if by magic, alongside trees, rocks and other fauna that match the climate from which they came (An eyewitness poet, Martial, describes this - and archaeologists observed pulleys and other mechanisms in the hypogeum beneath the arena floor that allowed trap doors to open - giving the spectacle that animals would appear out of thin air as if by magic). People in the audience gasp and some towards the front are frightened, but protective netting and shielding avoided animals jumping into the crowd. You yourself are sat in the middle of the stands however, but the expertly designed acoustics mean all the roars and screams are viscerally projected out into the stands. Today to your amazement 5,000 animals were paraded in these hunts, in just a single day! (Suetonius, Titus, 7).
After the morning hunts an interlude would follow. A bit like a modern baseball game stewards would pass through the crowd selling trays of food and wine to drink. The emperor himself is also throwing wooden tokens into the audience - you manage to catch one! Your token says to collect some free clothing from a designated location after the games - you’re slightly disappointed, you heard of someone winning a farm a few weeks ago! (Suetonius, Nero, 11 says the emperor would throw tokens with prizes such as gold and silver coins, precious stones, animals, grain and clothing and even houses).
The midday sun is now overhead and you’re getting a bit of heatstroke, on top of this the smell of the crammed spectators and gory spectacles is beginning to give off a rancid scent. Suddenly giant awnings are released to form a roof across the colosseum, the emperor specially brought in sailors from Misenum, the naval headquarters, to manoeuvre these huge awnings (called the vela). On top of this balsam and saffron-scented mist (called sparsiones, sprinklings) are sprinkled over the crowd to mask the repugnant smells.
Whilst you enjoy your snacks the midday spectacles are put on, where condemned criminals are to be executed in a variety of gruesome ways (called the damnati), many being fed to wild beasts. A particular highlight is one criminal dressed as the poet Orpheus being devoured by a bear. Another criminal dressed as Heracles was set alight (Martial describes these “entertainments”). Many of the executions are meant to resemble mythological scenes. But the most amazing of all the sights was one man who escaped death because the lion that was set upon him refused to attack him, and instead seemed to want to play like a giant cat with the condemned criminal (Aulus Gellius relates this strange story, though it actually took place in the Circus Maximus - I just thought it too good not to share!).
Now for the main event, the Murena, the gladiator fights. Gladiators were usually paired off to fight, combatants would be determined by skill level and weapon type - though many died archaeological evidence from Pompeii seems to suggest the Hollywood impression we have is exaggerated - these were highly professional and skilled athletes and many of the gladiator schools were owned by the emperor himself, they did not want to wantonly throw away gladiators for the sake of it, though of course this did happen at times.
Before the fighting begins the emperor and some of the senators sat in the imperial box inspect the weapons to make sure they are sharp enough - your political friend points out that some of the senators sat with the emperor were recently implicated in a plot against him but were spared, clearly the emperor is very forgiving and trusting of these senators to allow them to inspect weapons around him! (Suetonius, Cassius Dio).
A series of fights begin, but one stands out as the highlight of today’s spectacle: that of two gladiators called Verus and Priscus. Eyewitness poet Martial describes the moment: there was a long and drawn out battle between them, and the fight seemed evenly matched. The spectators loudly cheered on, the din drowns out the noise of the contest. Eventually both yield, but the crowd are so impressed by the struggle that they wish for both gladiators to be spared (Suetonius tells us Titus let the people decide the fate of gladiators on some days). Titus is equally impressed by the bravery and persistence of the gladiators, and awards both contestants with the victory prizes (Martial “on Spectacles” 31).
At the end of the games you notice the emperor weeping from his box, you aren’t sure why (Suetonius, Titus, 10).
The next day you wish to visit the new public baths that Titus has built next to the Colosseum. There is to be a ceremony to inaugurate the opening. You try to get in but the crowds have flocked to see the emperor and decide to come back tomorrow. On your way home you hear cries of panic spreading across the city - from a nearby balcony you hear the sad news - Titus has just collapsed and died in his home, just 1 day after the ending of the games (Cassius Dio 66.26).
By Jupiter I had quite a bit of fun writing that! Hope that helps at all!
Edit: some modern books
“Caesars and Gladiators” Eckart Kohne https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=5pzs975hnpoC&printsec=frontcover&dq=entertainment+in+ancient+rome&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiTnuqHsZbpAhXI2aQKHbnjB_oQ6AEIOTAD#v=onepage&q&f=false
“Life, Death and Entertainment in the Roman Empire” D.S. Potter https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Xnr-7qw66G4C&printsec=frontcover&dq=entertainment+in+ancient+rome&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiryvjOsZbpAhWNGewKHfR7Ax0Q6AEIMDAC#v=onepage&q&f=false
Like most entertainment events today, the answer is, more or less, it depends. The food question may be the easiest to answer. They will have food - street food was very popular in ancient Rome, and you can see relatively in-depth answers about it here. https://www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/comments/3m6cyu/what_kinds_of_street_food_would_of_been_available/
I don't have much evidence on prices, particularly once in the Colosseum. Come to think of it, I don't have clear, specific evidence of vendors within the Colosseum - but certainly outside. Depending on the event, once inside, food may be free, especially if those sponsoring the game/festival in question are looking for favor with the crowd. Nero's and Caligula's games included distributions (called "sparsio") - literally food being thrown to the crowd, sometimes coming down "like hail" - not only food that could be eaten at the Colosseum, but food to take home, as well as vouchers for gold, silver, coins, paintings, clothing... Aside from the free distribution, we have records of roasted or boiled chickpeas, bread, sausages, wine, grapes and other fruits, and many other foods being sold by street vendors.
As far as the schedule is concerned, paintings of schedules on walls do survive from Pompei - and decisions about games (like, this game will be held x x day) were written in the acta diurna, functionally a mix of official record and government-published gazette instituted by Caesar, but literacy being what it was, you are more likely to have heard of an event from a crier, aka praecones. Also, keep in mind that many Colosseum events would be held on festival days, which would have been similar in other cities, so you might just go to see the festival on x day, just as you might somewhere today to see what's on at Christmas. These criers would be hired by promoters (I believe these would fall in the class "dissignatores") often reporting to senators. The criers/praecones would walk or run around Rome, proclaiming whatever was coming up.
I don't have a specific answer for you regarding whether you bring friends or go alone. Again, it very much depends - on your family, your relationship to them, your social station. Off the top of my head, I don't remember sources talking about people going alone or together, but it is worth remember that, then as now, entertainment events tend to be social. At the time, life was (relative to European cultures, particularly US cities today) more social, so you were presumably likely to go with friends or family, simply because you did more things with them. If you hadn't heard about an event from a crier, you were likely to have heard it from a family member, particularly as the family would likely share the same allegiances, and relationships with those planning the events. I believe we do also have records of large bands, similar to soccer 'hooligan' gangs today, who would have presumably planned attendance together as well.
I'm an amateur with long-term interest, so apologia and hoped-for-corrections if I got anything wrong. Or I'll join the wreckage of removed posts.
References:
Spectacle: Entertainments of Early Imperial Rome - Richard C. Beacham
The Roman Games: Historical Sources in Translation - Alison Futrell
Trade and Taboo: Disreputable Professions in the Roman Mediterranean - Sarah Bond
Secrets of the Colosseum for Smithsonian Magazine - Tom Mueller
And the afformented /AskHistorians food thread.
You are a Roman emperor. You like purple togas, sumptuous banquets, and long walks on the beach (in a litter carried by slaves, of course). Some legion or other has just won a victory over an unpronounceable tribe, and you have taken it into your perfumed head to stage games in commemoration. The arrangements will take time, of course - more than a year, for the really big celebrations - but you want to be certain that the games will be as splendorous as your reign. You will also be sure that no denizen of Rome will be ignorant of your games, or of your glory.
A few months before the games, you will send some of your flunkies to paint notices in the usual places. A few examples from Pompeii have survived:
" Twenty pairs of gladiators furnished by Decimus Lucretius Satrius Valens....and ten pairs of gladiators furnished by Decimus Lucretius Valens his son, will fight at Pompeii April 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12. There will be a big hunt and awnings."
(This, of course, is small change; any imperial games worth their salt would have hundreds of gladiators, and the hunts and awnings would be a given.)
As the games approached, the painted advertisements would be supplemented by various means. Sometimes programs were handed out in advance, outlining the famous gladiators who would appear and the more exotic beasts destined for slaughter. For those unable to read, life-sized paintings of the star gladiators were put on display in prominent places. As interest mounted, a few of the most photogenic animals collected for the games might be exhibited to the gawping public; Augustus, for example, set up a crocodile pit, complete with Egyptian handlers, in advance of one of his shows.
Now let us say that you are a Roman of no particular importance. Your interest has been piqued by the advertising blitz, and you want to attend the games. First, you and/or your friends need to get your hands on some tesserae. To cannibalize an older answer of mine:
Ceramic, bone, or lead disks known as tesserae served as "tickets" to the Colosseum. Since the imperially-subsidized munera (games) shown in the Colosseum were free, Romans did not purchase these "tickets." Instead, they seem to have received them from patrons, organizations, or (exceptionally) the emperors themselves. Members of the Senate and those favored by the emperor presumably received their tesserae directly from the imperial court. For everyone else, there seem to have been several methods of distribution...
Thanks to a few literary references, we know that emperors sometimes gave out tesserae personally. Suetonius, for example, mentions that Domitian scattered tesserae into the stands at the Colosseum (Domitian, 4). Frustratingly, he does not specify what these tokens were for (other sorts of tesserae were redeemable for grain and money), though we may reasonably assume (since we have found lead tesserae with pictures of gladiators) that at least some were redeemable for admission to future games.
Well-connected patrons would have distributed tesserae to their clients. Martial mentions a lavish dinner at which the host laid out "nomismata" (tokens) on a table for his guests (12.62.11). Although there is no indication of what those particular tokens were for, tesserae for the games were probably distributed in like manner. In light of the many occupational and social groups assigned sections of seating in the Colosseum, it is assumed that "blocks" of tesserae were made available to the leaders of various organizations. So far as I can tell, however, nothing is known about the process of distribution.
Let's assume that you and your friends managed to get your hands on some of those sweet, sweet tesserae. On the day of the games, you would head to the Colosseum bright and early, and present your tokens to the slave attendants stationed at each of the 76 public entrances. Then you would proceed to your assigned section.
The Colosseum was designed to have water fountains (and, of course, latrines), though we aren't sure how long the fountains worked. Refreshments were sometimes made available via special distributions of food and wine (in some cases, too much wine, if we can believe Martial). It may have been customary, however, to go home at lunch. Typically, beast hunts were staged in the morning, and gladiatorial combats in the afternoon; the midday stretch was just executions and tedium, and could safely be skipped for a meal in the comfort of one's home. There was always the risk, however, that someone would steal your seat.
For more on the Colosseum and the games, feel free to check out my page on the topic. And, of course, feel more than free to ask follow-up questions.