Pre-Show Entertainment

, , , , | Right | November 30, 2017

(At our theater, the online ordering part of our ticketing software includes a “Comments” section on each order. Most people leave the field blank, but some include relevant questions or complaints. Recently, someone left this comment on their order:)

Comment: “When I come for the tickets, offer a fist bump. I will then say, ‘Paper covers rock,’ and put my hand over your fist. You’ll know it’s me.”

(I’m a somewhat socially awkward person who benefits from the rules and boundaries of customer service, so I find this both hilarious and a little terrifying. I tell a much more extroverted coworker she has to do it. She is delighted.)

Coworker: “Are you picking up tickets?”

Customer: “Yes, they’re under [Customer].”

Coworker: *gleefully whispers* “This is my moment!” *hands over tickets, offers fist*

Customer: *puts his hand over hers* “Paper covers rock.”

Coworker: “Woo!”

(The customer’s party cracks up.)

Me: “Well done.”

Dripping Wet With Double Meaning

, , , , , | Right | November 8, 2017

(The show “Singing in the Rain,” featuring actual onstage rain, has just finished, and the audience is thanking all the actors for a good show. One elderly lady walks up to me.)

Elderly Lady: “Ugh. This show got me wet. It’s a shame; I get wet every other day of the week, anyway.”

(I was scared to shake her hand after that!)

Will Not Apologize For That Phrasing Choice

, , , , | Related | October 10, 2017

(A local theater company my family has been involved with for many years has recently gone through a change in leadership, resulting in some… unique situations. Many of the recent decisions have come across as direct attacks against me and my family, including the recent shutdown of a popular, successful, and influential teen group that I was president of, only to be replaced a few days later by a group that has no apparent differences except that we are not involved and the board, presumably, has much more control. While I hold no ill will against them for this, my parents are less forgiving.)

Mom: “Sometime before the first meeting of the new group, I want to post exactly what led up to the shutdown of the first group.”

Me: “Uh, okay, great, but… when you post it, can you try to be a little less confrontational than will come naturally to you?”

Mom: “Oh, don’t worry. I’m going to phrase it as an apology.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Mom: “Yes, I’m going to apologize that we got the group shut down by refusing to be the board’s doormats.”

Me: “…”

Mom: “Because we stood up for what we believed in, instead of bowing down to their so-called supremacy created through shadow government. They decided the only solution was to snatch the group away from all of the teens and create a new one where they have all the power.”

Me: “…O-Oh.”

Mom: “Not what you were thinking?”

Me: “I think we’re back to my original question.”

Unfiltered Story #95380

, , | Unfiltered | September 21, 2017

(At my theater, a recorded message plays out the usual safety rules.)

End of Recorded Message: “Thank you for listening, the show will begin in just a few minutes.”

Stage Manager: *over headset* *LIES!”

A Watchful Eye On Every Mistake

, , | Friendly | August 25, 2017

(I’m trying to get a monitor to connect properly with a video camera. I’m down in the orchestra pit making sure the camera stays on, while another stagehand fiddles with the settings on the monitors. There are other people working around us, and it’s hard for people on stage to hear people in the pit at the best of times, never mind in the wings, so I decide to text her rather than shouting. Let’s say her name is Lindsey. I have a Lindsay in my phone, so I think that must be her.)

My Text: “The camera is on.”

(I don’t get a reply for several minutes. When I look at my contacts again, I realize I have texted Lindsay rather than Lindsey. Then I realize how horrifying it would be to get that text out of context from someone you don’t text with regularly!)

Me: “I’m so sorry. I know how creepy that sounds. I texted the wrong person!”

Lindsay: “That’s okay!”

(Couldn’t. Stop. Laughing. And no, everyone else in the building didn’t clap, because they were all too busy to ask/care what I was laughing about.)

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