So, right now I’m working in a very small theatre. Like one-hundred-and-fifty seats, the stage is two feet high, and we have no microphones kind of small. It’s usually really great to work in such an intimate space, but every once in a while I want to scream and refuse to ever work on a small stage again. For example, I can tell you with absolute certainty that the actor standing two feet away from you can in fact hear you talking to your neighbor. Even if we’re in a blackout, the darkness does not block out noise. I can hear what you’re saying. And yes, I do know how much longer Act I is, and no, I am not going to answer you right now.
But the mother of all things that pisses Megan off while she’s on stage is when you put your shit on my stage. I don’t care if it’s a program, a tissue, or a cane. Don’t put your shit on my stage. Especially not a freakin’ cane! A cane! Right on the front of the stage.
What did he think? That we didn’t need that part of the stage? That his cane would be a nice addition to the set décor? WTF, sir? We are not your television. If we trip, we fall and get hurt.
And this, this is an eloquently simple demonstration of what is wrong with the human race. (more…)